Broken human
by FythyrWisp
Summary: Sam insisted Dean shouldn't work alone while he was gone. Things got heated, then things got hot, then Dean managed to screw it up, as usual. Where it went from there, though, that was anyone's guess. (Shameless Destiel smutfic, has taken on a mind of its own. Sorry.)
1. Part 1, Broken Human

(A/N: shameless Destiel smut, pretty graphic, no gore, no hunting, just our sweethearts in a motel room. Read at your own risk.)

Castiel sullenly followed Dean into the familiar room of the cheap motel.

"Man, that band didn't suck too bad for such a backwoods town, did it?" Dean chuckled, still coming down from the number of drinks he'd had at the bar.

Castiel lowered himself onto the sofa in silence, and turned on the small television. He tried to look disinterested, but inside he was seething.

Dean set his keys and phone down on the table, and headed toward the bathroom. Castiel didn't have to look up, he could feel it, Dean's gaze. Dean was looking at him in the same pattern that had become a routine over the years. It seemed to be nothing until recently, but they had both found a new meaning to it. Neck, chest, lips, jaw, and then just a little too long in the eyes. Almost as though he would get to Castiel's eyes, and try to brush off his previous glances as platonic.

Castiel continued to ignore him, and Dean seemed to give up and made for the shower.

Things had changed in Sam's absence. He'd left a few days ago to help a distant Campbell relative who'd resurfaced, leaving Dean to finish a case on his own. It had actually been Sam's insistence that Dean call Castiel to help, just so he wouldn't be working alone. Castiel was cursing him for it now.

Only a few nights ago, elbows deep in research and dead ends, they'd started snapping at each other. Most of it had been sarcasm on Dean's part, but after one too many verbal papercut wounds, Castiel had delivered a rather scathing remark he'd instantly regretted.

* * *

Dean stared at him for a moment, hurt, as Castiel had tried to start piecing together an appropriate apology, but he was cut off by Dean.

"Y'know what? Blow me." Dean only ever said it in anger, and the first time he'd said it, years ago, Castiel hadn't understood the meaning of the phrase. He had learned since then.

Castiel was still confused. "Why would you want me to perform fellatio on you?"

"I don't-" Dean started, but turned to look back at him from where he had begun to stare out the window. He still seemed serious, but his expression had softened when he caught sight of the look on Castiel's face. He'd been tilting his head far less frequently these days, and though he didn't do it intentionally, it stirred something in Dean.

Dean reached for the bottle of liquor, took a large swig, and set it back down decisively, before moving to kneel on the floor. He took hold of Castiel's chair, and pulled, turning the chair until Castiel faced him, scraping the floor with a loud noise.

"I'll show you." Dean said. The inflection was more of an offer than a statement. He started running his hands up and down Castiel's thighs.

Dean began to unfasten Castiel's belt and slacks. "If this is too much... if you don't want to do this, or you want me to stop, that's okay, just say so. If I don't listen, just make me stop. We both know you can do that. Okay?"

He looked up, Castiel nodded, more curious than anything. This was not something he had experienced with April.

Castiel caught a glimpse of Dean's tongue as he unconsciously licked his lips while leaning forward and slipping his hand into Castiel's boxers. The visual, the physical feelings, and the idea of what would happen next had him hard as a rock in Dean's large, warm hand. He gripped the edge of the table and the leg of the chair as he gasped.

Dean reached lower, cupping him, and pulling the waistband of his boxers down with his free hand, freeing him completely. Dean began his ministrations in earnest, and Castiel welcomed every sensation, but soon Castiel felt a hand on his wrist. Dean pulled back for a moment. His face was a bit flush although that could have been from the whiskey, his breathing a little heavy, and his lips thoroughly wet and slightly swollen from friction. He pulled Castiel's hand to his hair, "C'mon, Cas, I need to know I'm doing this right."

He lowered his head again, this time running his hands up to grip Castiel's waist. Castiel struggled for words. "I... ah.. I think you are. I can't... I don't want you to stop..."

Dean pulled back immediately, "What? Was that too much?"

Castiel had instinctively pulled Dean's head gently in protest, "No, no, I was enjoying it."

Dean wobbled slightly. That last drink must have just hit his bloodstream. "You want to keep going?"

Castiel nodded, slipping his hand down to Dean's neck.

Dean pulled Castiel closer to the edge of the chair, making him lean back further. He caught Castiel's hard length in a tight grasp and ran his tongue in circles around the tip for a few moments, leaving him gasping before dropping his hand lower to cup him again and seemingly swallowing every inch of him repeatedly. Castiel's deep moans were punctuated by voiceless whimpers. He fought his thrown-back head and clenched eyes to get a look at Dean, and found his hand tightening and flexing in Dean's hair.

In staring at Dean, watching him cause so much intense pleasure to his vessel, it crossed his mind that since he had his grace back, it should have been much the same reaction as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich... just molecules. Just friction...

Dean looked up, catching Castiel's gaze, and those green eyes took him over the edge, and what was happening became clear to the angel. Dean felt him clench up, and did what he could to swallow him deeply until Castiel stopped shaking and panting.

Dean gently righted his clothing and helped him to sit up again before standing and returning to his bottle.

"I guess I did okay, huh?" Dean chuckled above Castiel's somewhat spent form.

"So much better than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich." Castiel muttered breathlessly.

Dean let out a laugh, "Well, okay."

Castiel had considered telling Dean then that he could feel his soul, but desided against it.

He wanted to offer to reciprocate physically, but Dean was already calling a restaurant for a delivery. He also continued to drink heavily, and Castiel wasn't certain if that had anything to do with him, but Dean was soon at the point where Castiel no longer felt comfortable offering, as Dean didn't seem to be capable of making any decisions for himself.

The following morning, Castiel had poured through a few volumes through the night, taking notes Dean was likely to get more use from, and was still sitting at the table when Dean started to stir.

Taking a bottle of water from the small, outdated refrigerator, he had walked over to Dean's bed and handed it to him, as he sat down on the edge.

Dean drank groggily, and rubbed at his face, before glancing downward.

"I guess I should get changed." Dean started to move to the other side of the bed awkwardly.

"Wait," Castiel said, catching Dean by the arm. "Last night... Dean, I, uh..."

Dean rubbed his face again. "Listen, it doesn't have to be weird. We can just let it go. Forget it ever happened if you want."

"Dean, please... I feel like I owe you."

"No." Dean was wide awake now. "No. That's not how it works, that is never how it works, Cas. Nobody owes anybody when it comes to any kind of sex. Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn't, and if two people aren't both up for it at the same time, it doesn't happen. That's why they call it getting lucky."

Dean pushed himself up off the bed, unsteady on his feet, clearly hung over. He started toward the bathroom.

"Do you regret it?" Castiel asked, turning to look at him.

Dean stopped in his tracks, and waited a moment before shrugging what seemed to be heavy shoulders.

"No...? I guess you have something done to you enough times, you start to wonder if you'd be able to do it yourself, right? No big deal..." Dean seemed to be taking stock of Castiel's reaction to his words. "Do you? I mean, you're okay with it, right?"

Castiel nodded and looked away.

"Cas?" Dean stepped closer, Castiel still wasn't meeting his eyes. "Cas, I'm not messing around, tell me, are you okay?"

"I'm all right, Dean. I just don't understand why you don't seem to want me to treat you in the same manner."

"Oh..." Dean shook his head, "Well, it's not really a good time right now, I'm hungover, and we've got work to do. Let's get some food and work on the case, and then later, maybe. I mean, if you still want to then."

Castiel felt relief at Dean's words, hoping he was being honest.

* * *

Castiel listened to the sound of the shower, still angry at Dean's actions at the bar. That woman had been attractive. And he only heard part of what the man had said to Dean after she had gone back out to the dance floor, but it had been evident that the couple had invited Dean to participate in sex with them that evening, and Dean hadn't immediately turned them down. His comment to the man unsettled Castiel to no end.

* * *

That evening, after following up with five more leads and finding five more dead ends, they'd arrived back at the motel.

"Well, that was a day of my life I'll never get back." Dean said, loosening his tie, opening a few buttons on his shirt, and retrieving a beer from the refrigerator.

Castiel stood at the table flipping pages in one of the open lore books. He could feel Dean's eyes on him. He looked up. Dean was watching him. And he understood now what Dean had meant when he suggested Castiel unbutton the top of his shirt in preparation for a date some time past, as he felt a stir deep in his stomach.

Dean took a drink, and Castiel couldn't help but watch his lips on the opening of the bottle as they brought back memories from the night before.

"About our discussion this morning... is now a better time?" Castiel asked, hesitation in his voice, masking a fear of rejection.

"Uh, sure, I guess. If you want to."

Castiel nodded, moving closer to Dean.

* * *

Castiel considered the unnatural sounds, the writhing he'd caused to come from Dean's body that second evening. Running entirely on instinct and the intimate knowledge of nerve endings from having rebuilt Dean from the DNA up after pulling him from Hell, and while things had advanced quite a bit that evening, and even further the following evening, emotions were never discussed.

The bathtub faucet squeaked as the water shut off.

* * *

The third day they had finally taken out the monsters and finished the job. The missing guy got to go home to his wife and their cats, and all was well.

Sam called, offering to head back their way, but Dean had told him the case was over and he should go back to the bunker.

Dean had hung up the phone, clearly in the best mood he'd had all week, and turned to Castiel.

A short time later, with far less clothing, and a clear description of what was supposed to happen, Dean had passed him the small bottle from the nightstand.

"Are you certain this isn't going to hurt you?" he asked, looking at the bottle in his hand.

"How can I be certain? I've never done this before." Dean replied. "But at least with you, if we mess this up, I know you'll stop, and you can heal me right away, so I can't think of any safer way to do this than with you."

Castiel nodded, and opened the bottle.

* * *

Castiel had had no reason to wonder why Dean slept so long the fourth morning, but he'd called Sam around the middle of the day to say he'd be taking at least one more night before heading home.

Dean had insisted on going to see an AC-DC cover band that evening at a bar they hadn't been in before. Dean had mostly drank in the motel room. Castiel had enjoyed the music well enough, mostly enjoying watching Dean have a good time. At least, until the couple had approached Dean.

It hadn't bothered Castiel that other people found Dean attractive, or that they had approached him, but how Dean responded had concerned him.

The bathroom door opened, and Dean emerged, still dripping and a towel barely clinging to his hips. He made a beeline to the fridge for a beer, and once again, turned to look at Castiel... neck, chest, lips, jaw, Castiel caught his eyes with his own.

"So, uh... should I even bother putting clothes on tonight?" Dean asked with a smirk.

Castiel continued to keep his gaze captive in a glare.

"Oh, don't give me that pissed off eyebrow thing, that's not fair." Dean said, trying to be dismissive, but clearly unnerved. "What did I do? You've been sulking since we left the bar."

Castiel turned his attention back to the television.

"Okay, I tried. You want to do the silent treatment, you want to play mind games, you can do it alone." Dean said, setting his beer down and leaning over to get his clothes out of his duffel.

A moment later he froze as he felt Castiel's hands on his waist. He shuddered as those hands went up to his ribs, standing him upright and steering him toward the wall. They continued their path along his arms to his hands, firmly pinning his palms against the wall shoulder width apart and just above his head. Castiel's body pressed against his back, and before leaving his hands, an instruction was hissed in his ear to keep his hands where they were. Dean nodded mutely.

Castiel ran his hands back down Dean's arms and back, tracing the many curves of his muscles, making note of every scar, and every sensitive spot that made him shiver, before taking hold of his hips and directing him to step back a bit further.

Dean's emotions were mixed, somewhere between concerned and excited. He wasn't sure if it was Castiel's hands or his own erection that caused the towel to hit the floor, but it had fallen.

Castiel ran one hand along Dean's side as he leaned forward to taste some of the droplets still resting on Dean's shoulders while he unfastened his slacks with the other. A tiny moan caught in Dean's throat and ended in a whimper.

A jolt of concern went up his spine when he heard the sound of Castiel's zipper. "Cas? If this is how you want it, I'll play along, but you gotta get me rea-"

Dean's voice ended as he choked on the last words. Castiel hadn't entered him, but had trapped his length between the two of them, thoroughly startling Dean. Castiel's hands came forward, one arm across Dean's chest, the other passing his erection with a delicate, wispy, teasing touch that made him gasp and shake, before grasping lower to hold them both together in his hand. His wrist rested against the side of Dean's hardness, still teasing with the slightest motions.

"I'm very upset with you, Dean."

Castiel began fondle them both. Dean found himself rocking his hips just slightly, causing Castiel's length to shift coming to rest between his buttocks, which wasn't helping him keep himself under control.

"Because I made eyes at the bartender?" Dean's voice came out a rough and broken whisper.

"No."

"I.. uh... I mmmmwas looking at the rack on that girl in the blue dress?"

"There was no girl in a blue dress, Dean." Castiel rocked against him, bringing out a moan from deep in Dean's throat.

"There wasn't?"

Castiel flexed his arm impossibly tight like a steel belt around Dean's chest, his voice coming out an angry growl in his ear. "You said to that man, 'It's only gay if your balls touch,' Dean, you said if that didn't happen, it didn't mean anything. I don't know what you'd think this is otherwise, but we hadn't done that, so I thought I'd clarify it for you. But if you thought this meant nothing, or you could pass it off as nothing, you were wrong. I shouldn't even be able to climax in this vessel now that I have my grace back. You're literally putting your soul into what you've been doing to me the last three nights, Dean. This matters to you a great deal, but you don't even have the decency to tell me you care, or even try not to lead other people on at the same time. You're deceiving yourself into thinking this is nothing, because you refuse to accept that I might also have feelings for you."

"Cas..." Dean said, gasping, prying at the arm around his chest with both hands, "Please... can't breathe..."

In one graceful movement, Castiel released Dean completely, and spun him around so his back hit the wall, disorienting him. He put a hand to Dean's jaw to keep his head up, another to his chest, stopping him from trying to move away.

"It's been years, the same pattern. Did you think I wouldn't notice when you started kissing me last night?" Castiel moved his hand to each part of Dean corresponding to the areas he seemed to obsess over on his own body. "Neck... chest... lips... jaw. You've wanted this for a long time."

Dean put his hands on Castiel's arms to steady himself as he fought to get air back into his lungs. "I'm not human, Dean, I wasn't brainwashed with sexual taboos. If you had told me you wanted this, I would have given it to you."

Dean was finally able to breathe normally again. When Castiel spoke again, he seemed less angry, having spoken his piece. "Look at me, Dean..." Dean did as Castiel asked. "Haven't I given you everything else?"

Dean swallowed hard, fighting back tears, and nodded. "You have. Don't think I don't see that. I'm sorry, Cas..."

Dean pulled at Castiel's arms, bringing him into a tight embrace. After a few moments, Dean felt Castiel's arms loosen, his hands finding those sensitive places on his skin from before. Castiel found his mouth and began to kiss him, gently at first, then more insistent.

Dean did his best to undress Castiel while complying with his hands, mouth, and other movements pressing him toward the bed. His diligence was rewarded when his hand found is way under Castiel's shirt.

Dean curled his fingers and ran the backs of his fingernails up Castiel's ribs. Castiel's fingers dug into his skin as he shook slightly. Dean looked into his eyes when they opened again. "Is that really my soul you're feeling doing that to you?"

Castiel nodded. Dean continued to remove any piece of Castiel's clothing he could get his hands on, and presently they were in much the same position as the night before.

Dean was on his back, Castiel above him, waiting for his cue to begin moving. Dean started to squirm. "C'mon, Cas..."

Castiel started gently, easing in and out, ever so carefully.

Having normally been on the other side of things, Dean was beginning to appreciate the slow movements within him, and the care Castiel showed.

"Cas...?" Dean asked between moans, "What did it feel like to you?... When you, hmm... you raised me from perdition?" Dean gasped as Castiel put an arm under the small of Dean's back and found a better angle.

His breathing slightly labored, Castiel continued to curl around Dean's body rhythmically. "You never asked about that before."

Dean's hips rocked against Castiel. "Please... I want to know."

Castiel began to move a bit harder but keeping the same pace. "It was painful, moving through hell, looking for you. My wings were damaged, permanently blackened, and my skin was basically seared off. The environment was toxic, even more for me than for you. But I couldn't leave you there... I was going to get you out or die trying..."

Dean put his hand to Castiel's face, pulling him towards his own, capturing his mouth, stifling one of his own moans with Castiel's lips.

After a moment, Castiel moved to Dean's neck, whispering against his skin between kisses and gentle lipping. "When I found you... oh, you were so damaged... but I took hold of you... something happened. Your soul knew what I was... it reached out for my grace and begged me too save you... Your soul charged my grace... you were healing me, Dean. That handprint on your arm when you woke up... That may have been the shape of my hand, but it was your soul leaving it's mark on me..."

Dean was moaning much louder now, mostly incoherent as Castiel slowly increased his speed.

"That was an ecstasy I'd never felt before, Dean... thought I never would again..."

Dean threw his head back. "Ohh, I'm really close, Cas..."

Castiel reached between them and gripped Dean tightly, receiving a whimpered response. "So good... hold me... more..."

Castiel was running his thumb over Dean's tip, pounding into him, a hairs breadth away from reckless abandon, as Dean screamed his name, clenching tightly throughout his body, spilling over Castiel's hand.

At the same time, Dean's soul brightened considerably, and fluctuated against Castiel, causing him to lose himself completely, burying himself deep within Dean in his own joyous explosion.

Castiel slowly lowered himself to rest on Dean's body as his orgasm subsided. He pressed his face against Dean's bare, sweat soaked skin, breathing heavily, never wanting to lose his scent. He slowly started to move out of Dean, but found him tightening. "Augh! Stop! Don't move!"

"What's happening?" Castiel asked cautiously.

Dean was looking worse for wear. "I don't know, just hurts."

Castiel pulled his arm out from under Dean's back as gently as possible, still causing him some discomfort. He raised it to rest against the side of Dean's face, stroking his hair back. "You're torn, Dean."

Dean felt the familiar warmth of Castiel's healing. The pain stopped completely, leaving nothing but the heavy pressure of Castiel inside him.

"I'm going to wait a moment, it'll be easier when I'm not..." at a loss for whether his current choice of words were both appropriate and comforting, he instead met Dean's eyes.

Dean nodded, and wrapped his arms tighter around Castiel. "You're good to me, Cas. More than I deserve."

"Dean..."

"Don't, Cas. You know I won't believe it anyway. Don't want to hear it right now, either." Dean said, his voice a dusky whisper. "I'm sorry. I should have told you, and even though you know now, well, I still can't, but you're right... I.. I've wanted to be with you for a long time. And yeah, I care... a lot."

Castiel slowly shifted, his erection completely gone, slipping easily out of Dean, getting nothing more than a comfortable hum in response. He moved to lay next to Dean, pulling him close.

Spent and relaxed, it wasn't long before Dean began to snore quietly against Castiel's neck. He needed to say it, and he felt he had already heard it from Dean, in the best way the broken human could manage, and he knew saying it would only cause Dean stress. He whispered against Dean's hair. "I love you, too."


	2. Part 2, Secret's Out

_Discretion... Keep it quiet... No one's business but ours..._

"Dean? Are you still awake?" Castiel said quietly into the dark.

"I'm awake. Come on, I've been waiting on you."

Castiel had existed for a very long time, and even among the angels, he had been considered very patient. At least until he was sent to raise Dean Winchester from the depths reserved for the most wicked.

Castiel removed his coat, jacket, and tie quickly, hanging them on the back of a chair. He moved to undo his shirt buttons, but found Dean's hands doing it for him. He relaxed backward into Dean's firm chest.

Everything about him had changed. Something about Dean had, according to his brethren, ruined him. He had felt it when Dean's soul had touched him in Hell. He had felt it slightly more recently, as well.

Dean had the shirt off him in a moment, and pulled him to the bed, laying down across it on his back and pulling Castiel over him. Castiel put his weight in one elbow, their legs beginning to tangle as his free hand and his mouth began to wander.

The door creaked open. Castiel lifted himself, intending to move off of Dean before the light came on.

The light did come on, but not before the gun went off.

Dean had insisted on keeping their activities confidential. _You, me, no one else..._

Castiel understood Dean far better than Dean gave him credit for. He may as well have created a large flashing neon sign that read _'Don't Tell Sam.'_

He could easily have waited Dean's entire life. But he was out of luck. They both were.

He didn't move. Dean looked up...

* * *

Castiel had accompanied Dean to the bar. He wondered about Dean's behavior, considering what had happened last time.

He had surreptitiously drank a few bottles of liquor before leaving for the bar, in the hopes of being on the same level as his partner. His goal was for both of them to have a good time.

Dean proceeded to get himself inebriated, and had taken exception to a complaint someone he called a dude-bro had had when Dean bumped into him.

Castiel did everything he could to calm Dean, and removed him from the bar.

In the parking lot, Dean headed for the driver's door, but Castiel caught his elbow. "You're drunk, Dean. Give me the keys."

Dean shook off Castiel's hand, "I... am fine. You don't know."

"Dean, allow me to drive, or I'll heal you, and you'll be sober."

"Well, I don't want to do that. Or you know what?" Dean stumbled a bit as he leaned in, "we can get in the back and I can fuck you in the ass for once."

"Dean..."

"C'mon, baby, don't be like that."

"Dean..."

"We need some fun."

"Get in the car, Dean."

"Front or back?" he asked, smirking.

Castiel raised an eyebrow at Dean's antics. "Wherever you want."

"Okay," he said, pulling Castiel close and nibbling at his earlobe. "I want it in an empty field on the hood of my car."

Dean turned around and poured his large, drunken frame into the vehicle, through the driver's seat.

A short time later, Dean was obnoxiously tapping the toe of his boot against Castiel's thigh as he sat nearly sideways in the passenger seat.

"Turn right on the next road, man." He said loudly over the music before continuing to sing along.

Castiel took the next road as instructed. He could tell they were at least three kilometers from the nearest farm house, and the chances of being disturbed were slim to none. Dean directed him to park in the field, hidden from the road by a stand of trees, jumping out of the car as soon as Castiel put it in park.

Castiel could see his form moving around in the headlights before he turned them off.

He got out of the car, and went to the front of the vehicle, distracted for a moment by the sight of the stars. They were far enough from town to see the milky way.

When he turned back to Dean, he realized both of Dean's shirts were missing. He glanced at the ground but didn't see them anywhere.

"Okay, baby, c'mere..." Dean slurred, chuckling. "I'mma be your pinup girl, and you're gonna tell me I'm pretty."

Dean pulled at Castiel's trench coat, but seemed confused as to whether he was pulling Castiel along by it, or trying to remove it.

Castiel rarely allowed his odd sense of humor to show, but the occasion seemed to call for it. He slipped out of, and to Dean's perception, through, his trench coat just as Dean gave another tug, sending Dean backwards under his own power, sprawling on the hood with the coat.

He stood up again, laughing. "Oh, that was awesome. Ass over elbows."

Dean came back to Castiel, immediately going for his neck.

"Dean, you're still very drunk."

"Don't heal me!" he mumbled loudly, refusing to take his lips off his lover.

"You're too drunk for this."

"No."

"Dean,"

"I feel awesome. Let's feel awesome."

"Dean..."

"Shuddup, Cas."

Castiel was about to say more, but suddenly his mouth was full of Dean's tongue. Dean gripped him, dragging him backward to the car before he let go, and broke the kiss they'd both been drowning in.

Dean perched on the edge of the hood far more carefully and slowly leaned back on his elbows. The stretch flattened his stomach, compressed his abs, and tensed his chest and shoulders. He dropped his head back, probably due to the alcohol. "C'mon, Cas, I don't have all night."

Castiel's breath caught in his throat. "Don't move."

Dean immediately raised his head. Castiel took a step back.

"What? What's wrong?" Dean muttered.

"I want to remember this." Castiel said, almost as if Dean wouldn't hear it.

After a moment he stepped forward again, between Dean's spread knees. He ran his hands up Dean's body.

"That pose make my tits look good?" Dean continued to slur.

"You don't have breasts, Dean." Castiel said, still searching his flesh for tender places.

"Just wanna make you happy, Cas."

Castiel pressed against him, wrapping him in his arms. "I'm happy with you."

"I'm your pinup girl now, got my picture in your head." Dean chuckled.

Castiel backed up a few inches and closed his eyes, allowing his hands to continue to roam.

"You're right, Dean. And I'll cherish it forever." Castiel opened his eyes again, bringing his hands to the sides of Dean's neck, looking him straight in the eyes. "It's a very thoughtful gift... very beautiful."

Dean looked confused. "I was joking, Cas. I didn't mean you were actually supposed to say it."

"I didn't say it. But it's true."

"What's true?"

"You're pretty." Castiel pulled him in for a kiss. Dean surrendered to it, thoroughly enjoying it, but then he started to tug at Castiel's pants.

He broke their kiss abruptly. "Did you mojo these things? Are you mojoing your pants right now?"

"Dean, you're too drunk."

"You keep saying that... I want the mojo in your pants."

"I suggest we go back to the bunker."

"I suggest you heal me just enough I can get it up."

* * *

Castiel wasn't sure what to expect next, and slowly moved back. He felt a sinking feeling, not sure how Dean was going to react. Anger, dismissal, denial, all would fit his personality.

Dean sat up a bit, his expression fairly blank, despite the bullet wound in Castiel's chest that was rapidly healing. It was the uncertainty of what would happen next that disturbed Castiel the most.

* * *

Dean ground his hips against Castiel's, pressing him back into the car.

Castiel gasped into the kiss. He grabbed Dean's waist tightly.

"Careful, baby, you're gonna leave a bruise." he said, his voice a soft purr.

Castiel tilted his head. "When you say that, do you mean me or the car?"

Dean backed up a bit. "I, uh... well this time, at least, you."

Castiel glanced at the car. "I feel awkward now."

Dean cupped his cheek, turning him back to face him.

"Castiel..." the sound of his entire name coming from Dean's lips had him melting. "Lose the damn coat."

Castiel slipped out of the coat and his jacket in one go, as Dean loosened his tie, attempting better access to his neck, then moving on to the buttons on his shirt.

"Dean, we don't have a lot of time."

"I know, I know. C'mere..." Dean pulled Castiel closer and turned him, guiding him to face the car.

Castiel rested his elbows on the hood as Dean reached around him and unfastened his belt and slacks, reaching inside, searching for skin.

"Hmnn... Dean...?" Castiel managed.

"It's okay... I don't have any lube in here, so we just have to pretend, okay?"

Castiel moaned a bit, enjoying the feeling of Dean's hands on his body.

Dean pressed the hard bulge in his jeans against Castiel's ass. "Just try to imagine it, okay? Feeling me, hard... moving inside you... I bet you're tight... tight and warm... I bet you feel heavenly..."

Dean rocked against him as he continued to touch him.

What Dean hadn't expected was Castiel felt a slight shadow version of exactly what he was describing. "Dean!... keep going..."

Dean closed his eyes. "Ohh, I want you to feel it..."

Dean's soul had pressed into Castiel, although he wasn't sure how. It gave the slightest movements within him, not enough, not by a long shot, but in the tiniest loving whisper of a way, it felt amazing.

"I'd do this for you, Cas... you do so much for me... I'd go slow... give you anything you need... I'll take care of you..." Dean pressed harder, his arm trapped between the front of Castiel's hip and the car now.

"Dean..." Castiel breathed. "I think I heard the door..."

Dean slipped away from him carefully, and looked toward the door of the garage. He could hear Sam coming down the stairs just inside the main door of the bunker. He turned back to Castiel with an apologetic look, finding his angel fully redressed, if somewhat frazzled.

* * *

This was not how Dean had wanted things to happen. Castiel was supposed to sneak in, they'd spend some time together, and Sam would never notice.

Dean had not been ready. Sam had no warning.

Castiel had a bit of his ribs showing through the hole in his bare chest.

The last thing he wanted to do was to make Dean uncomfortable, or drive a wedge between the Winchesters. Their lives had been so difficult already.

He wondered if this would be a turning point, if he would have to leave them to keep from causing them further issues, or if it was too late. Perhaps the damage was irreversible.

* * *

Sam had left for his 'weird indie concert' some time ago.

Dean waited until he was sure Sam wasn't coming back for anything, and hurried down the hall, grabbing an old tape recorder he'd stashed behind some books in the library.

Castiel looked up from the ancient text he was reviewing with confusion.

Dean reappeared a moment later.

"Okay, I got a plan." he said, pulling Castiel or of his chair. "I stuck a tape recorder in Sam's room, anything it hears would be too loud. We might be able to do this a little more often."

Castiel set the book down carefully. "Did you want to try that one activity again?"

"Can't this time, we need to see how much noise we make with the usual routine." Dean said, dragging Castiel along to his room.

It had been a few weeks, sparse contact, occasional silent make-out sessions behind locked doors, never getting close to the feeling they were both desperate for. At the same time, they both seemed more relaxed from their shared affection.

Dean slammed his bedroom door shut behind them, Castiel was certain it had echoed down the hall.

He grabbed Dean roughly, shoving his back against the door. He pulled Dean's shirt out of the way, putting his mouth to Dean's collar bone, something they'd figured out by accident.

Of course Sam had heard Dean's yelp at that point, and he'd had to play it off as a stubbed toe.

He reached under Dean's shirt, finding a nipple and squeezing it roughly as he palmed his crotch with the other hand.

Dean lost his balance rather loudly. Castiel caught him and turned around, manhandling him onto the bed, and stripping out of his own clothing.

Dean pulled his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the floor, Castiel's hands already on his belt. After a quick flurry of a tangle of twenty fingers, Dean relented and lay back, raising his hips slightly as Castiel dragged his waistband lower.

Dean was about to sit up having remembered his boots, but Castiel's hand came down on his chest like a sack of bricks, pinning him to the bed. At the same time, he put his mouth around Dean's hard member.

Dean wasn't expecting it, and groaned loudly, closing his legs around Castiel's torso without thinking. His moans slowly turned into words. "Cas... Augh! That .. that's good... hmnnn.. so good... sweetheart..."

Castiel's ears perked up. His continued to do what he could to please Dean as he managed to remove his clothing.

He slowed down a bit before stopping, allowing Dean to regain his composure. Dean sat up and retrieved a bottle from his nightstand.

"Here..." Castiel raised an eyebrow, waiting for Dean to tell him what he wanted. "Whatever you want, Cas, just go for it."

Castiel took the bottle from Dean, grasping his wrist firmly, turning him around, and pressing him to lean forward. With the hand that held the bottle, he dragged his fingertips slowly down Dean's muscular back.

"Dean... I want permission to read your thoughts. Just during this. I'll stop when we're done."

Dean was shaking slightly at the feel of Castiel's hand. "That's fine with me... just don't take all day."

Castiel let go of Dean's wrist letting him put both his hands down on the bed, and opened the bottle. Castiel considered the last time they'd had a chance to be this close. It had been a while.

 _"C'mon, Cas, I need this. So bad."_

"I know you do."

"What? Oh.. Nevermind."

Castiel pressed in with two fingers, going slowly, and almost immediately hitting his mark.

Dean stifled a pleasured scream as his arms buckled and his elbows hit the bed.

Castiel smirked as a small glow came from his hand, and suddenly Dean was ready. He replaced his hand with his own organ, stiff and aching for attention from Dean's body.

Dean was panting hard between moans and whimpers. Castiel found the sounds absolutely glorious.

 _"Oh, god, Cas, baby, you feel so good."_

Dean's breathing started to pick up speed as Castiel moved.

"Don't hold back... I can take it... Please..."

Castiel slammed into Dean with brute force for a few moments.

 _"I need you. I need you to hold me. I need you harder."_

Castiel grabbed Dean's wrist again, twisting his arm behind his back. He leaned forward, hissing in Dean's ear. "Louder."

Dean's deep voiced moans were bordering on wanton. It still wasn't enough for Castiel.

Castiel let go of his wrist again, pulling him upright against him as he continued to kneel behind him on the bed. He felt Dean tighten around him as the angle changed. Finally holding him vertical, Dean's back against his chest, he continued to move, at more gentle pace.

 _"More!"_

Castiel began to growl Enochian words against the side of Dean's neck as he moved, letting his hands swim across the surface of Dean's skin. He nipped at Dean's ear, words still flowing, but picking up the occasional odd tone or hitch in his breath.

 _"So hot I can't take it!"_

"Dean... ahh.. I need you to... hold onto me..." Castiel continued to thrust hard. Dean reached behind him, grasping at Castiel's shoulders. Castiel turned his attention to Dean's hard cock, causing the deep moans to get louder and more frantic. He found a nipple with his other hand.

Castiel kissed Dean's neck, careful not to leave a mark. He could feel Dean's body was on the brink.

 _"I can feel everything. I know you love me."_

Castiel said a few more words in Enochian, and brought his hand up to cover Dean's mouth, muffling his wordless screams and ran his tongue up Dean's neck as they both succumbed to the fire in their blood. Dean's body released from Castiel's hand, spraying onto the blanket, as Castiel's heat stimulated the patch of pleasurable tissue deep within Dean's body.

Dean moaned against Castiel's hand as he came down from ecstasy, his body seemingly falling apart.

 _"Hold me."_

Castiel nuzzled the back of Dean's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him, slowly lowering them both to the bed.

"Don't let go yet.. okay?"

"I won't." Castiel replied.

 _"I love you so much."_

* * *

Dean wiped Castiel's blood off his bare chest, where it had fallen, turning toward the door.

Anger slowly built on Dean's face, and Castiel braced himself for the worst...

* * *

Dean pulled Castiel into the kitchen, stealing a quick kiss as he did, then stepping back in case Sam wandered in from the library.

"Okay, I listened to the tape a few times," Dean chuckled, "which was hot, by the way, the parts I could hear... and I think if we're careful and go slow, we should be quiet enough."

"I do like the sound of slow." Castiel said quietly.

"Me too... god, I want to make love with you." Dean said, his voice slightly strained. "After Sam goes to bed tonight, wait a bit, and if I'm asleep when you get in there, wake me up, okay?"

Castiel nodded, receiving one more kiss, deep this time, just before Dean left the kitchen.

He waited his practiced count of five before exiting the room.

* * *

Sam was semi crouched in the doorway, a wisp of smoke rising from the barrel of his pistol, his hand still on the light switch.

He was shaking, having realized he'd just shot his friend.

"What... Dean?... Cas, are you okay?" Sam sputtered.

Castiel reached behind him, and felt a large exit wound starting to heal. "I'll be fine."

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam asked, shaking his head, his brow furrowed. He gestured to Castiel, it becoming obvious what had been occurring.

Castiel braced himself.

"What the hell? I'll tell you what the hell, you barged in here and shot Cas! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"It was dark! I thought something had you! You sounded like... Oh, god... Oh my god, Dean, what...? No...no, I don't want to know."

"Too bad, Mr. Hairtrigger!" Dean yelled. "You shot my boyfriend! And I will keep taking it up the ass as often as possible, because he's damn good at it. Now be grateful we still had our pants on, and shut the damn door!"

Sam backed out of the room, shutting the door in a hurry, muttering. "Never getting up for a glass of water ever again. Ever."

Castiel watched the door close and turned back to Dean.

"You consider me your boyfriend?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of hope.

Dean pulled him into a loving embrace. "Our secret's out."

Castiel rested his head on Dean's chest, as Dean intended. "What happens now?"

Dean shrugged slightly. "You heal, I guess we give Sam a couple days to calm down, then, just when things start to feel normal, we get nice and loud. It's payback. Bitch ought to know better than to go shooting my angel."


	3. Part 3, Angel's Arms

Castiel hung his head, the proverbial weight on his shoulders nearly too much to bear.

He had made a mistake, and Sam had nearly paid for it with his life.

"I cannot believe you'd abandon him like that, what were you thinking?" Dean threw out angrily.

"I'm sorry. Dean, I wasn't thinking." Castiel said in a penitent tone.

* * *

Sam sat down at the table with his cup of coffee. Castiel was already in the library, not having the same hygiene requirements as Dean.

"Good morning, Sam."

"'Morning..." Sam said, considering reaching for his laptop and avoiding any chance of uncomfortable conversation.

"Look, Cas... I'm sorry. I am so sorry I shot you. I didn't know. Really. And if I had known what was really going on," Sam shook his head, "I would never have busted in on you guys like that. And I won't. This is... whatever this is... it's none of my business."

"It's all right, Sam. I'm just fine now. And I take it you accept this new development between myself and your brother?"

Sam had just taken a sip of his coffee, and set it back down, reaching for his laptop. "Yeah. That's uh, that's what I meant, I'm just not very awake yet."

Castiel smiled just a bit. "Thank you, Sam."

Sam looked up, somewhat confused.

"I had a feeling you would be supportive." Castiel admitted, appreciatively.

* * *

"Sam, really, I am very sorry." Castiel said.

"Hey, I'm just glad you got back to me before I bled out." Sam looked at Castiel's face, he was still worried. "I'm going to be okay, Cas."

"Yeah, until next time. What then? Huh?" Dean asked.

* * *

"AH! Hmm! Too hard, Cas! Ease off!"

Castiel took his teeth off Dean's nipple, blowing on it lightly, reveling in the way Dean's body arched in appreciation.

Castiel took his mouth to Dean's neck again, as his hands ran along every curve he could find.

"Cas... I don't know... oh, god!MM!... I don't know how much more I can take... C'mon, sweetheart... please..." Dean panted heavily, sweat starting to run on his face.

"You asked me to make you beg, Dean. I don't intend to disappoint you." Castiel whispered in his ear. Dean shuddered at the feeling of hot breath against his skin.

"Cas... I'm begging. Please!" Dean twisted his hands against the cuffs that held him restrained to the bed.

Castiel looked into Dean's eyes. It hadn't been the entire ten minutes since Dean's pleading had started, but he was certain another minute and thirty-eight seconds wouldn't harm him.

Castiel reached down, running his hand from the inside of Dean's knee, almost to the crease of his thigh. The squirming intensified, as did the whimpers, until he was nearly where Dean so badly needed him.

"Not yet."

"Oh, god, Cas... I can't... I can't do this... please... Please!"

Castiel swung a leg over Dean's torso, far too high to give his throbbing member any attention, and leaned down to kiss him deeply, dragging his nails from Dean's wrists, down his arms and sides.

Dean suckled at Castiel's tongue and lips, his hips moving wildly of their own accord.

Castiel pulled back, stifling a moan.

"Baby, if you're not gonna touch me yet, at least let me have some of you." Dean said, breathless.

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked.

"C'mon, teasing me with it, right there..."

"Dean...?"

"Put your dick in my mouth."

Castiel wasn't sure why he was taken aback by Dean's request, having allowed it before, but Dean had never been this wound up and bound before. Still, he saw no reason to deny him.

Castiel moved further up the bed, straddling Dean's muscular chest, until he was close enough. He held himself steady as Dean closed his lips around his hard length.

At first, he allowed himself to slowly sink into the wet heat of Dean's mouth, vaguely aware that too deep would be damaging, but presently Dean was sucking, pulling, hard. He felt swallowing motions deep in Dean's throat, and lost his balance. Moaning, he hit the wall with both hands, somehow feelling completely helpless, despite Dean being bound below him.

"AUGH! DEAN!... Stop, stop it!..." Castiel climbed off him as he was released. "I should retaliate for that."

"Promise?" Dean asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Castiel noticed Dean's body language had changed. Dean was calm, and had one ankle resting on the opposite knee... He had regained control of the situation, which was exactly what he had wanted to avoid.

Castiel kissed him gently, and reached for the rim of hard plastic, toying at it. He moved slowly to Dean's ear. "Have a nice evening, Dean."

He got up off the bed, and began to walk to the door, suddenly fully dressed.

"What? No! Cas! Wait! I'm sorry. That was too much, I'm sorry, don't..." Dean said, shaking slightly.

Castiel turned around, his hand visibly on the door knob. "What is it, Dean?"

Dean's voice came out awfully close to broken. "I'm sorry... we don't have to do anything, please just don't leave."

In a split second, he was undressed, and on top of Dean once more. This time Dean could have raised his hips and found the pressure and friction he had been so desperate for, but he didn't dare.

Castiel kissed him for a few moments, feeling Dean tense at first, then relaxing into it.

"Tell me again how bad you want it." Castiel growled.

"Please, Cas, I need it... Please?" There were tones of repentance, but not quite enough desperation.

"Tell me more." Castiel slipped his hands under the small of Dean's back, and started pressing short kisses to random places on Dean's torso, occasionally stopping to take a taste of his skin.

"Ooohhhh... you always feel so good... please... Cas..." Dean gasped hard and bucked his hips as teeth nipped just below his navel.

"Everything you do to me... I need it... Please, Cas, really... oh god, I need you in me, Cas! Please! I'm begging you.."

Castiel shifted between Dean's legs, and easily lifted his hips off the bed. He slipped the plug out, and was inside Dean in a heartbeat.

Dean groaned loudly, finally receiving something large enough to find that one spot that drove him crazy.

Castiel began to move almost immediately, going at a medium pace. Dean was already begging him to go faster.

After spending so much effort attempting to resist the feel of Dean's soul, clutching and pulling at him in the most sensitive ways, it felt good to be deep inside Dean once again, picking up their familiar rhythm.

Dean was writhing in no time, Castiel refused to put his hips down, and held him in place, not letting him move.

It wasn't long before Dean's entire body clenched, and he came with a wordless scream, Castiel just a moment behind him.

* * *

"Next time, are you just going to leave him to die?"

"I would never-" Castiel started.

"I never thought you'd leave him bleeding on the floor, either!"

"Dean!" Sam said, louder than he had intended, "Get off his ass! He saved my life."

"A gay joke?... That's low, Sam." Dean said, scowling.

* * *

"Cas... I don't know if this matters to you, but... are we... gay?" Dean asked, knowing full well that Castiel would be awake.

"To a casual observer, perhaps." Castiel answered in the darkness. "My vessel has a male anatomy. But you were already well aware of that."

Dean shifted in Castiel's arms, turning to face him, despite not being able to see much more than a faint glow of grace in Castiel's eyes. He ran his palm on Castiel's cheek, feeling the stubble of his beard, before leaning in for a kiss.

"I always thought I was pretty straight. I don't understand it." Dean said.

"I don't have an answer for you, Dean. As much as I wish I did."

"Okay... I'm going to try not to think about it too much, but I guess the short version might be, 'I'm not gay, but I'm totally gay for you.' Is that okay?" Dean asked.

Castiel wasn't certain if Dean was fully awake. "Of course."

Dean pressed even closer to Castiel, and in a few more moments, allowed himself to fall asleep.

* * *

"That is not what I meant!" Sam said, defensively. "I'm sorry. You know I love you guys. But c'mon, Dean, you're over reacting! This wasn't Cas' fault!"

Sam stood up, still limping slightly. Castiel hadn't been able to heal him completely. "I'm out. I'm done. I can't watch you yell at him all night. But this is crap, and you know it. It's not like he was the one who threw me against the saw!"

* * *

"If you're still up for it, I want to try that thing we talked about before. The one we haven't gotten around to yet." Dean said in a lust filled whisper against Castiel's lips.

"I'm willing." Castiel said quietly, thinking back to the way Dean's soul had felt.

"On the hood?" Dean asked.

Castiel nodded, still not willing to let go of his lips for long.

It was a different field this time, but just as isolated.

Dean pulled Castiel along with him as he exited the car, but found it far more difficult than he expected. He landed on his back, Castiel just above him.

For a moment, Dean was transfixed by the sight of Castiel, the perfect, clear night sky, and his beautiful car just behind him. Everything, just for once, seemed to fit.

"Damn."

"Are you hurt?"

"No, sweetheart, don't worry about it."

Castiel leaned in, kissing him again, and for once, Dean knew absolutely, and for certain, that he was in love in a way that was going to last forever.

Dean was lifted easily to his feet, and felt strong arms encircle him. He grabbed, slowly but firmly, at the layers of clothing on Castiel's chest, working his hands up to Castiel's collar. He could feel Castiel's hands on his waist as he worked at the tie and buttons. He broke away from Castiel's mouth, backing up just far enough to see his hands clearly, and finally got the fabric open far enough to get at the top of his lover's chest.

Castiel slipped his coat off as Dean brought his lips against his neck. Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel's waist inside of his suit jacket, tugging his shirt out of his waistband, his other hand still on the buttons.

Dean pressed Castiel backward, toward the car and soon the shirt and jacket joined the coat.

Castiel's back pressed up against the fender as Dean pressed his lips against Castiel's ear, his hands searching every inch of flesh he could reach.

"Cas... Baby, I want to take care of you... give you anything you want... anything you need..." His breath caught in his throat as Castiel allowed his head to tip back, giving access to the fingers Dean was delicately dragging up his neck, and moaned.

Dean pulled back to get a look at the expression of pleasure on Castiel's face. It wasn't until Castiel was looking him the eyes that he was brought back to himself.

He kissed Castiel deeply, lifting him onto the hood, pressing his torso firmly against Castiel's, and feeling the angel squirm. Dean started to pull back again to pull his shirts off, but found Castiel's thighs had a tight hold on his hips, keeping his body, or at least the lower half, close. He wondered briefly, as his shirts came off and were tossed aside, just how wound up he had gotten Castiel.

Castiel leaned back on his elbows, just watching as Dean's shirts came off. Dean turned back to face him after dropping them into the growing pile of clothes.

"Anything you want, Cas?... Anything you want me to do to you before we get to it?"

Dean felt Castiel's thighs loosen momentarily, followed by his firm calf pressing into his ass, forcing him closer. He lost his balance, and fell over Castiel, catching himself on his hands, on either side of Castiel's body. "I think you know, Dean. Just not so hard this time."

Dean nodded, and dropped his head to Castiel's chest, his mouth taking stock of every muscle, his hands skillfully unfastening Castiel's slacks.

Once he had Castiel's hard length freed from its confines, he ran his hand up and down it slowly as he made his way closer with his mouth. He gripped firmly and lowered his mouth around him, paying close attention to what he could hear.

Dean had promised to give Castiel what he wanted and needed, and he knew last time he had crossed a line, too much, too fast. This time, he was tender about it, he had decided all of his actions toward Castiel tonight would be gentle.

The moans started small, slowly increasing. Panting and gasps soon joined. Dean took him in deep, and gave a moan of his own, causing an even louder, lower voiced sound of desperation to come from Castiel's mouth.

Dean carefully slowed to a stop, trying to use his hands to console the whimpers of loss.

Castiel was shaking slightly from want and need, as Dean pulled him closer, still holding on to him as he pulled him off of the car. He kissed Castiel firmly, and continued to kiss his neck and shoulders as he guided Castiel to turn around.

Dean slipped Castiel's slacks lower, and pulled a small tube out of his pocket. He pressed his chest into Castiel's back, encouraging him to lean forward. "Lay down, Cas... I've got you."

Castiel bent at the hips, as Dean's hands put him onto the hood of the car from the waist up.

Soon, Dean had a finger inside of him, working in and out, slick, and firm. He added another, slowly moving in and out, feeling his muscles relaxing, and responding to his touch, as Castiel began to make sounds Dean was sure he had never heard before, at any point prior.

"Cas... that feel good?... I need to know, please tell me if it's hurting."

Castiel shook his head hard. "It doesn't hurt, Dean..."

Dean could hear something coming from the radio inside the car, though he was sure he'd left the car off.

Castiel gasped, and shook as Dean added a finger. Dean could pick out a few sounds that vaguely resonated as Enochian, when Castiel thrashed in response to friction in a place Dean hadn't meant to touch yet, and certainly not so hard.

"I'm sorry, babe... didn't mean to do that yet."

Castiel panted roughly... "Again."

Dean raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, and pressed down again, watching the angel's body spasm.

"AUGH! DEAN! Please... please, I want more!"

Dean had his jeans and boxers low around his thighs in a heartbeat, and applied what little was left in the tube. He pulled his hand away, and pressed into Castiel slowly, until he was all the way inside.

The faint sounds were growing louder. There was almost a growling from Castiel, in the panting and moans.

"I'm not moving just yet, Cas... oh, god.. I knew you'd be warm and tight, but this is so much more than I thought... So good... You're perfect..."

"Dean..." Castiel said, his voice shaken by desperation, "Please... don't make me wait any longer!"

Dean started moving immediately, going slow, but gently nudging and pressing that same spot every time.

The sound was getting more audible now, like a ringing in Dean's ears.

Dean started to pick up the place, standing up and passing his hands around Castiel's hips and thighs as he moved.

He choked out, through his moans, "Cas!... You feel so good... let me get you off... I want to keep you with me forever..."

Castiel could feel Dean's soul, attempting to cover every inch of his grace. Almost like if was looking for a way in. The fluctuations manipulated him in the most delicious ways, not that Dean would understand if he tried to explain it. It was Dean's intentions to pleasure him that caused it, and it was certainly working, far more intensely than ever before. His grace writhed uncontrollably enraptured in pleasure.

The sound was getting louder.

His chest and stomach pressed firmly against the hood of the car, even his face resting against the still-warm metal, he did find it somewhat erotic that Dean wanted to associate him with something he cared for so meticulously. He'd even deliberately said he wanted to take care of Castiel.

Dean was nearing his breaking point a little too fast, and Castiel seemed to be getting tighter. "Ohhhh, god... Cas... you gotta relax... I don't want to hurt you... too tight..."

Dean brought his right hand in front to grasp Castiel, and his left, he slowly moved up Castiel's spine.

The ringing in Dean's ears was getting to be too much, and it finally clicked in his mind exactly what was happening.

"Cas... is that your real voice?... ah... I can't, Cas... please, sweetheart, keep it quiet... I've got you... I got you..."

Castiel lost all control with a couple of pumps of Dean's arm, and felt the heat from Dean explode within him.

He tightened around Dean, and thrust forward, dragging Dean with him. The power behind Castiel's movement slammed Dean's hand into the fender, crunching bones and leaving a significant dent. Ghostly shadows of two large black wings emerged from his back on either side of Dean's left hand as he arched upward, and the scream he choked down caused a crack across the entire windshield.

Castiel collapsed on the hood, panting hard, unaware of anything that wasn't Dean on or within him, and the car.

Dean groaned softly as he slipped out of Castiel, this time from intense pain. "Cas... are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Dean looked down, trying to discern if there was any blood, as his right hand retreated on instinct.

Castiel's body, still shaking, slipped fairly gently to the ground with a tiny moan.

Dean shifted his jeans higher and got to his knees right away, looking into his angel's face. "Cas?"

"I'm okay, Dean..."

"I think you broke my hand."

Castiel didn't raise his head, but took Dean's hand, healing it. "Lay down and look at the stars with me?"

* * *

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, still angry.

"To sleep. It's 4 a.m., jackass!" Sam yelled back down the hallway.

Castiel considered his options, certain Dean wouldn't be comfortable with his presence. He decided he would probably stay where he was, in the library of the bunker, and read a few of the books he hadn't read yet.

Dean paced around, fuming. Castiel could see he was exhausted, and on his last bit of energy.

"He's right, isn't he?" Dean asked, still a mess. "You just won't tell me, because I'm yelling at you."

Castiel looked up. "You're very protective of your brother, Dean."

* * *

"Okay, I got us a case." Sam said, walking into the kitchen and immediately wishing he'd said it before he rounded the corner.

He shook his head, reminding himself he needed to get used to this, and he had made a rule for himself, no tongues, no hands inside of clothes, no reason to say anything. He went to the other side of the table and set his laptop down, turning it around as he sat.

Dean turned his head, but left his arms wrapped around Castiel. "What kind of case?"

"A high school, known to have a few spooky things going on the last couple of decades, suddenly the shop teacher winds up dead. Literally, winds up... like inside of a drive shaft of a car his senior class was rebuilding."

Dean blinked. "That sounds messy. But is it our kind of job?"

"Could be killer machines running with kids around. We should go check it out. It's in Grand Island."

Dean shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, okay, I guess since it's only an hour away."

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, the way you drive."

Castiel moved to a chair, leaving Dean on his own to respond. "At least when I drive, the music doesn't suck."

"Okay, so, head out in the morning?" Sam asked.

* * *

"And I'm being a jackass?"

Castiel looked down at the table, not answering.

Dean ran a shaky hand over his face. "All right. Fine."

Dean turned around, leaving the room, and turned off the lights.

* * *

In the dark, Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean, knowing it was going to be a quiet night as neither of them were particularly in the mood. "I'm sorry for breaking your hand last night. It wasn't my intention to hurt you. I was... overwhelmed."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, well, you nearly cut loose hard enough to rip my dick off."

Dean kissed him, relaxing into their shared embrace. It was becoming second nature, and he was sure he was sleeping better. He hadn't dreamed about hell in months.

"Maybe we can try again, if we're careful. Maybe some angel-cuffs, or something."

"Dean, it felt incredible, but I don't believe it's safe for you... it's not a risk I'm willing to take again."

"Never?" Dean asked, a bit surprised Castiel would deny himself that kind of release.

"Maybe, one day, far into the future... when I won't put your life at risk." Castiel muttered.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked.

"When you're dead, Dean... For good. Humans don't last on Earth, you know that. But someday, when it's all over, and you don't need this body anymore, you'll be only slightly more powerful than I am, and we could both be in a purer form." Castiel stopped, keeping human impermanence at the forefront of his mind, particularly where relationships were concerned. "If you'll still be willing to have me."

Dean kissed him, hard, deeply, trying desperately to convey the love he still wasn't ready to speak of. "I will always be willing to have you."

* * *

Castiel wondered if Dean meant for him to sit for the rest of the night in the dark room, or if he was supposed to leave.

"You coming?" Dean asked, somewhat gruffly.

"Where?" Castiel wasn't sure where Dean meant for him to go.

"To bed, Cas... I've been with you too long, I might be angry, but I'm not going to be able to sleep without my angel's arms around me." Dean said, little more than a whisper.

Castiel stood up and walked to the archway where Dean was waiting for him, lifting a hand to Dean's back as they made for the hallway.


	4. Part 4, Losing You

"Dean... please understand. I have to go." Castiel pleaded.

"Yeah, but today?" Dean said, throwing his jacket down on the bed, hard.

Castiel was confused. "Is today significant to you?"

Dean flinched as though he'd been struck, and reached to scratch at his left upper arm. "Maybe it shouldn't be."

* * *

"C'mon Cas, I didn't have that many." Dean slurred, leaning into him.

"I saw the bottle, Dean." Castiel said, closing the bedroom door.

"Don't do that, don't go trying to make sense. C'mon, sweetheart, I just want to have fun with you." Dean said, reaching for the other man's belt.

Castiel took hold of his hands, removing them from his belt.

"That is not fair, overpowering me, Cas. Why do you do this? You never want to have fun with me if I'm drinking?" Dean said, slipping his hands up Castiel's shirt, feeling the muscles below the fabric.

"You're not drinking, you're drunk."

"You have something against drunk sex?" Dean asked.

"Yes, Dean." Castiel said, becoming irritated. "It's a matter of consent."

"I'll consent. I'm consenting right now. Hell, I'll scream 'yes' all night long, if you find that one spot on my hip again." Dean said, moving in closer.

Castiel pushed him back gently. "You're too inebriated. If you don't stop, I will have to leave the room."

Dean looked him in the eye. "So you don't consent to my consent being good enough. What do you think is going to happen?... You know I know from experience, right? I have gotten this drunk, and still fucked, no regrets the next day. Been a lot drunker. Woke up next to a few awful women, too, but I'm a big boy, I can make my own decisions."

"Dean, I can't stop you from making your own choices, but I can decline to participate." Castiel said firmly. Dean took a step back.

"Don't want to play, huh?" Dean slowly started taking off his clothes. "Okay, I tried."

He tossed his shirts, one by one, into the laundry basket, as Castiel attempted not to look so intrigued.

Dean bent over at the waist to untie his boots, then slowly worked out of them, kicking them under the bed. Dean sat down, scooting backward across the bed slightly, stretching out, one arm behind his head, the other starting to make small movements over the crotch of his jeans.

Castiel was left with nothing else to do but stare, uncomfortably.

"You don't want to participate, that's fine by me, but I want to get off, so, I'm going to be here..." Dean started to unfasten his belt, "just doing what I do... and I guess you can just do whatever you want with that open invitation."

Castiel shook his head, and took off his coat, jacket, and tie.

Dean watched him closely, and smirked. "Change your mind already?"

"No, Dean. Eventually you'll wear yourself out and be content to sleep."

"Yeah, well, you know what makes me sleepy..." Dean said, as his zipper came down slowly.

Castiel's breath caught in his throat as Dean raised his hips high up off the bed, tightening his torso muscles and slowly working his jeans down his body. He wanted that contact, he wanted to be the one disrobing him, stealing touches, both unnoticed, and very much noticed.

Dean soon had himself completely bare, and wasn't shy at all about the fact that he was stretched out, naked before Castiel, who was still clothed. Dean started to fondle himself, already half hard. "Maybe we should have a rule, Cas, if I can get it up, you can participate? How's that sound?"

Castiel shook his head and took off his shoes.

"I don't know if I can still do this without you, Cas. It's been a while..." Dean teased, and moaned as he wrapped his hand around his now fully lengthened erection.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." Castiel said, dryly.

Dean squeezed himself, hard, tilting his head back, tiny noises escaping his lips. He shuddered as he ran a finger over his tip, spreading precum over the head. He took hold lower with his other hand as he began to stroke himself. "Ohhhh, god, Cas... you don't know what you're missing... hmnnn, but I know what's missing over here..."

Castiel had been about to finish undressing down to his boxers in preparation for sleep, or at least, holding Dean while he slept, but thought better of it.

Dean was picking up speed. "I hope you're getting a good show, Cas, I don't do this for just anybody."

Dean writhed slightly, then sat up, still keeping himself going. "Cas... anything you want to see while I'm doing this?"

Castiel looked him up and down, but didn't answer. The truth was, he was already quite happy with what he saw, but he didn't want to encourage Dean's behavior.

Dean shrugged. "Okay, then."

He took the bottle of lube from the drawer of the nightstand, pouring a bit of it over himself, with a gasp. "Wasn't expecting it to be that cold."

"We're in a bunker, Dean, everything is cold." Castiel said, unamused.

"Never been that cold before," Dean complained, slowly spreading it with his hand, leaving his member slick and glistening.

Castiel shrugged. "Normally I warm it for you."

"You do that for me?..." Dean said, his eyebrows went up. "You're so sweet, Cas... Hey, speaking of sweet, did you want to try this, since you picked out the flavor?"

Castiel declined, and removed his shirt, taking a hanger from the closet to keep it from wrinkling.

Dean lay back down on the bed. "Mmmmnn, you know... I know what's missing..."

Dean switched hands, moving the more lubricated hand below him as he raised his hips off the bed again, and began to penetrate himself with his fingers, moaning.

"It's just not the same, baby... The stuff you do to me is so much better." Dean said in a dusky voice, as his hands continued to move.

Even across the room, Castiel could feel it, Dean's soul, reaching for him. It pulled at him, both with tenderness and desperate passion.

"Cas... Baby, I swear... I want this... I'm ready for you, if you change your mind... Ohhh, god, please change your mind..." Dean panted, squirming under his own touch.

Castiel reached his breaking point, and stepped quickly to the bed, his pants lost along the way. He grabbed hold of Dean, and rolled them both over so Dean was straddling his waist as he leaned back on his elbows. "You win. I'll participate, but only to a point."

Dean leaned forward and kissed him deeply, removing his fingers, and guiding Castiel inside for him. He gasped, shaking slightly... "Oh, I needed that... I need you..."

Castiel couldn't help rocking his hips slightly as Dean began to move. "Dean... if you regret it later... it'll be the last time I do this without healing you first..."

Dean swung his hips down at an angle, causing Castiel to bite his lip and moan loudly.

"How's it feel?... Mm... Cas... what can I do to get you close?" Dean asked, trying to move faster while trying to slow down his own climax.

"Don't worry about me, Dean... Just make yourself happy tonight." Castiel shifted his legs, angling his hips, making it impossible for Dean to move without finding himself stimulated.

Dean kissed Castiel again, pushing him down into the bed as he lost himself in pleasure, his mouth finding Castiel's neck, hands moving lovingly over his chest, and then returning his mouth to Castiel's lips, nipping and suckling as his body shook, freezing him in place, Castiel's lower lip still in his mouth, stifling a choked down scream.

Castiel felt it when Dean's hot spray coated both of their stomachs. Dean was still shaking a moment later as Castiel rolled them both onto their sides. He could feel that Dean's body hadn't been lubricated enough, and while he wasn't torn, he could tear easily.

"Don't move, Dean..." he whispered softly.

Dean nodded, knowing he could trust whatever reason Castiel had, enjoying the full feeling of his body.

* * *

"I mean, if it's nothing to you, maybe it doesn't matter as much as I thought it did." Dean said, rounding the table to sit down, still angry and wound up.

Castiel wracked his mind. "September 18th... It's the same date I raised you from Hell in 2009."

"Yeah, Cas." Dean said, putting his hand flat on the table.

Castiel shook his head. "I am sorry, Dean. I didn't expect it to matter to you. I'm not in the habit of keeping traditions through the seasons and years as humans do."

Dean hung his head. "Yeah, well, I'm sorry. I guess we didn't really have a clear start to this thing, being together, so it was the best I could figure for us, for some kind of mile marker, y'know?"

Castiel furrowed his brow. "If you wish to make time to spend together, I'm happy to go along with any plans you make for when I return."

* * *

Dean shoved at the door harder. He had tried just about everything to get into this room, and he still had no idea what was in there.

Sam stood back. "Maybe we just wait for Cas to get back, I'm sure he'd have it open in no time."

"Nah," Dean growled, throwing his shoulder into the door once more. "He's got some former cronies looking for his help with something. Meanwhile, we still don't have any cases popping up, may as well keep poking around here."

Dean smacked the door. "This thing is really stuck."

Sam stepped forward and grabbed the knob, turning it hard. Something inside snapped, and the knob came off in his hand as the door swung open on it's own.

Dean shook his head as Sam offered him the doorknob. He wandered into the room cautiously, Sam close behind.

"So what do they want?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, something about some higher-ups want him to give some other angel a second chance... or a beat down. I wasn't really paying attention when that Ramiel guy showed up." Dean said.

Sam looked closely at one of the shelves by the door. "You think he's safe with these guys?"

Dean noticed the similarities between the room they were in, and the one where they'd held Crowley, but the markings were different. The shelves opened in the same manner, but these already stood open. "He said he was... I hope he's right."

* * *

Dean groaned. "That's not the point, Cas. And it's not how this stuff is supposed to go... not when you expect it to-.. Not when you want to do things right."

Dean looked up at where Castiel stood, far too close to the door. He wanted it to last this time. More than a month, more than a year. Cas had talked about forever in a very real and literal sense, and it had made Dean's heart ache in a way that pushed him to fight for something good that actually felt achievable.

"Look, if you really have to, just go. You know how to find me when you're done."

* * *

Dean pulled Castiel along by the front of his coat. "C'mon, I found something... you're gonna love this..."

Castiel allowed Dean to press his back against the door for an urgent kiss before they both stumbled inside.

"I don't know if I can take you being gone for a week again, sweetheart. I got so lonely in here..." Dean said, still kissing him.

Castiel had expected such a welcome, and was relieved Sam had been out when he arrived. It being the middle of the day, however, he hadn't expected to find Dean half way through a bottle of Jack Daniel's. He could taste the whiskey in each kiss, not unpleasant to him, but it was concerning.

Dean pushed Castiel's coat and jacket back from his shoulders. Castiel complied immediately, quickly stripping to the waist. He reached for Dean's shirt, only to have his hands knocked away as he was pulled roughly to the bed.

Castiel pulled Dean closer as he sat down. "What is it you want to show me?"

Dean reached past him, his shirt brushing Castiel's bare chest, his neck moving directly against the angel's mouth and nose, as he slipped his hand under one of the pillows.

Before Castiel knew what was happening, Dean had the delicate braided silver chain around him, only slightly thicker than a cord, resting against the back of his neck, crossing in front of his chest, and throwing a loop around his waist. His wings unfurled, drooping, as Dean wound a loop around Castiel's wrists.

"No... Dean, please, don't do this-" Castiel said quietly, even his voice subdued by the chain, but it didn't register, as Dean brought up another loop, this one going into Castiel's mouth.

"What do you think? Fun, right? Not sure if we'd still be able to get rough about it, but we can find out..." Dean said, distracted by the wings.

He leaned heavily against Castiel, working his lips along the angel's neck, dropping his hand between his legs to grasp him through his slacks.

It wasn't until he felt the tears on his own cheek that he realized something was wrong. He pulled back to find tears and fear in Castiel's eyes, and realized Castiel was unable to even shy away.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, tenderly pulling the chain from Castiel's mouth. "Did I scare you, baby?... I'm sorry..."

"Dean..." Castiel pleaded in a desperate whisper, "Unbind me."

Dean stepped back in surprise, feeling far more sober. Castiel, his angel, was sitting on their bed, silver chains dancing across his bare skin, his wings corporeal, silky black, and weak. He'd entered the room a being of strength and power, and now, Dean had rendered him perfectly helpless, paralyzed without warning. "Oh, god, I fucked up."

Dean dropped to his knees, unwinding the chain. "Baby, I'm so sorry... I wasn't going to hurt you, I swear. I never will."

When the last loop came off, falling to the bed, no longer touching his skin, Castiel's wings were gone again. Dean took his arms to pull him to his feet, but quickly found himself on the floor, a dull pain filling one side of his face.

"I had that coming." Dean muttered, attempting to get to his feet.

Castiel stood over him, somehow both powerful, and a complete wreck. Dean realized Castiel had to be holding back.

"Dean... do you understand what you've done?"

Dean was finally on his feet, but swaying. "I think so. What I don't understand is why you didn't kill me for it."

Castiel turned toward the door. "Would you have spoken to me about this first if you were sober?"

Dean hung his head, knowing there was no appropriate answer.

"Dean Winchester," Castiel ground out, "if you have any love for me at all, you will never approach me with an instrument of subjugation again, unless I am an immediate danger. And certainly not for sex, whatever your own preferences may be."

"This wasn't supposed to go like this, I swear... I didn't know." Dean said, clearly feeling his regret deeply.

"I could have told you what that chain would do before you put it on me, but you took that option from me." Castiel said, seething with quiet rage.

Dean felt tears running down his face, and didn't try to stop them.

"You're right, Dean... you fucked up." Castiel said quietly, before leaving the room.

* * *

"Dean, I'm needed elsewhere, urgently. Please tell me if you're being sarcastic. I can't tell." Castiel said quickly.

"I'm not." Dean stated, in a low voice, tinged with sadness. "Come find me when you're done."

Castiel was about to disappear from Dean's view when Dean's voice stopped him. "Wait, Cas!"

Dean stood and crossed the floor in just a few steps, kissing Castiel passionately. "Stay safe out there."

Castiel nodded and disappeared.

* * *

Dean shut the fridge, and put the dish towel full of ice to his face.

Sam came in, carrying a couple of bags of groceries. "What happened?"

Dean looked at his brother. "Cas stopped by, but he left again."

"What the hell?" Sam asked, incredulous. "He did that to you?"

"Yeah, well, I had it coming." Dean said.

"Dude. Don't be that girl." Sam said, masking a very serious tone.

Dean took the ice pack down. "Trust me, he should have killed me, and if I told you what I did, you'd probably do it yourself."

Sam started putting the groceries away. "You didn't cheat on him, did you?"

Dean shook his head, sadly as he turned to leave the room. "No... no, it was a lot worse than that."

* * *

Dean sat down again, choking back tears. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt this lonely without having had someone die.

He considered the past few months... Maybe he had pushed too hard. Maybe he had wanted too much. He felt guilty.

He still couldn't bring himself to say it, but he had admitted it to himself privately, that he loved his angel, deeply. He was sure he'd never be content with anyone else, now that he'd had Castiel with him for this long.

Dean looked over to the window, there was a sign for a liquor store a short distance away. He considered breaking his promise for a brief moment.

* * *

Dean put away the shovel, and went to clean himself up. It had been nearly a week, and he hadn't seen Castiel since.

He had spent several sleepless nights considering how bad it could have gotten, if he had had even one more drink that day. Even his mention of getting rough echoed in his mind as the image of Castiel sitting on the bed, paralyzed and in fear haunted him.

After a shower, Dean put on some fresh clothes, and went back outside. There was a meadow a short walk from the bunker, and Dean felt he was finally able to make a proper apology.

"Cas... Castiel? Please, just come talk to me... I miss you... I know I went too far, and I want to fix this."

"Hello, Dean." Castiel said quietly, from the edge of the trees.

"Cas... I know. I know I took advantage of you, I am so sorry... Look, if I didn't think it's too valuable as a weapon, I'd melt that damn thing down, and it would never see the light of day again." Dean said, his voice breaking. "Can you forgive me?"

Castiel looked around as he came closer. "Why did you put all these flowers here?"

"You still like bees, right?" Dean said, torn between closing the gap between them, and giving Castiel space. "There's some clover, too. And that box over there, I looked it up online, it's the best hive design I could find. Specially treated wood, won't hurt the bees."

Dean's voice was a mess, he knew, but he didn't care. "I just want to make you happy, Cas. And I don't mean just sex, I mean all the time... I made some room in the garage for your car."

Castiel turned to look at him directly. "I believed you right away, that you didn't know. But that doesn't change the choices you made."

Dean nodded. "I haven't had anything stronger than beer since then, and I won't ever come at you drunk again, I promise... please come back?"

Castiel looked down for a moment. "You said when you took the chains off that you weren't going to hurt me, Dean, but you already had. There's only so much I can forgive before I need to look after my own wellbeing. I need more than a flower garden from you."

"I'll do it. Whatever it is, I'll do it." Dean said.

"Stop drinking for a month." Castiel said, catching his eyes.

"Done. What else?" Dean asked.

Castiel tilted his head. "I hadn't considered anything else."

Dean slowly moved closer, waiting for Castiel to make the first move. "I meant what I said, I want to fix this."

"I know you meant it." Castiel said, reaching for Dean's hand. It was possibly the smallest gesture Dean would have noticed as Castiel's acceptance, and Dean was happy to settle for it.

* * *

Dean knew it would only make things worse, and he was not about to cause Castiel any more suffering. Not even as miserable as he felt.

He longed for something to kill the pain, but not even the TV interested him.

* * *

"Are you sure? I don't want to rush you back into this." Dean said quietly as the door closed.

Castiel pulled him closer, claiming him mouth with a kiss. "I'm sure you'll behave this time."

Dean dragged his tshirt over his head. "You're in charge."

Castiel looked him over. "We don't have much time, maybe this should wait until after we meet up with Sam in Cheyenne."

Dean's face fell. "Right... just... just a couple more before I get behind the wheel, okay?"

Castiel pulled him close, kissing him again.

* * *

Dean finally tired of pacing, and stretched out on the bed on his stomach, pressing the side of his face into the pillow.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been out when he heard Castiel's wings.

Dean sat up quickly, looking for him, spotting him by the door, roughly the same place he'd left from hours before. He looked weary, and went straight to the table, taking the nearest chair, shaking slightly.

"Cas, what happened?"

"There was a battle. I was wounded, I'll need a short time to recover." Castiel said, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay? What can I do?" Dean asked.

"I'm fine, Dean." Castiel said firmly.

* * *

After several hours in on the road, Dean finally relented and allowed Castiel to drive.

He slumped against the passenger door, waiting for sleep to take him, the familiar rumble of the engine almost good enough to match the way Castiel's arms relaxed him.

It had been two weeks, and he had kept his promise. Castiel was slowly warming up to him again, but spent most evenings in the library. Dean was still hesitant to ask him to stay with him through the night, but at the same time, desperate to have him back.

Dean watched Castiel's hands on the wheel, considering all the times those same hands had been on his body, firm and gentle.

Finally he started to dream.

* * *

"Nothing at all?" Dean asked, concerned.

Dean looked over at the bed, then back to Castiel. "I could hold you for a while."

Castiel just shook his head. "All I need is some time."

* * *

"Dean? We're here. Sam's bus should be arriving shortly."

Dean shook himself awake. Castiel passed him a cup of coffee from a drive-through. "Thanks, sweetheart... You okay?"

"I've heard from Ramiel. They may need my help again soon."

Dean nodded. "That doesn't sound good."

Castiel shrugged slightly as Dean took a sip of coffee. "I did expect this when I agreed to help them the first time, I just didn't think it would be this soon."

Dean spotted Sam getting off the bus and made sure the car was in an obvious place.

"Couple more hours to Douglas, I think I can manage." Dean said, stretching.

Castiel nodded and got out of the car.

Dean also got out, still working on his coffee. He noticed Sam walking over and passed Castiel on his way to the driver's door. He tapped gently on the spot Castiel had dented not too long ago, which had also broken his hand, and caught Castiel's eye, giving him a wink.

Castiel rolled his eyes and turned to Sam instead. "I thought your third cousin Steven was joining us?"

"Nope, change of plans. Vampire threw him down a flight of stairs, he broke his leg. That's why I called you." Sam said, tossing his bag into the trunk.

He clapped Castiel on the shoulder as he moved to his usual door, before second guessing himself. "Cas, did you want to sit up front?"

"No, that's all right, Sam." Castiel said, reaching for the back door handle.

After they were on the road, and Sam had given them a run down on what they were tracking to Douglas, Dean's mind began to wander back to Castiel. Aside from the quick necking session right before leaving, his demeanor was cold.

* * *

Dean sat down on the bed, his feeling of helplessness written all over his face.

"Cas... Maybe this is the wrong time, but..." Dean's voice all but shattered. "Am I losing you?"

Castiel looked up suddenly. "Dean..."

* * *

Dean pulled into the joint parking lot of the only two hotels in the town.

"What to you think, the one on the left or the one on the right?" Dean asked.

"Who cares? As long as it doesn't smell like that place in Sheridan." Sam replied with a yawn.

Dean shuddered. "Beets. I swear."

Sam went straight for the front desk, and came back for his bags, passing Castiel a key card. "You guys are in 213, I'm in 216. All they had left was doubles."

* * *

"Cas, I can't take it anymore, just please tell me." Dean said, visibly agitated. "Are we gonna make it through this? Or are we over?"

"Dean, if I had intended to end this relationship with you, I would have told you directly. I'm still uneasy-"

"Because I went too far."

"Because you made a mistake. We are both working toward the same ends, Dean. At least I thought we were." Castiel said, straightening up.

* * *

After setting up the room, Castiel stood by the window for a while, looking down over the small town.

Dean stripped down to his boxers, climbing into one of the beds.

"Cas?... you okay over there?" Dean asked, hoping he'd join him.

"Yes, Dean. However if you prefer I leave, I will." Castiel said, his voice clearly an offer, not a threat.

"No..." Dean said quietly. "Too far away as it is."

* * *

Dean wiped at his eyes. "I still want to be with you, Cas... I'm just scared I'm gonna push too hard again, now I don't know what to do. I don't know where the line is anymore."

Castiel hauled himself to his feet, Dean watched carefully, worried he'd need to catch him if he fell. "On second thought, I think I'll take you up on that offer."

"What?" Dean asked, looking hopeful.

"I need to rest, and restore myself. I know you'll watch over me." Castiel said, moving closer to the bed.

Dean reached for him as he stumbled slightly, pulling him into a tight embrace, then guiding him gently to lay down. He moved around to the other side, pulling Castiel close, the angel's head resting on his chest, an arm around his waist, his own arm down Castiel's back, his other hand stroking through his hair.


	5. Part 5, Real Love

Part 5, Real Love

(A/N: This was supposed to be PWP, wtf happened?!... Okay, still trying to be consistent with the style, but this one is somewhat inverted, you'll see what I mean, tiny flashes of not-porn between fun stuff. Still trying to make the end of each part a good conclusion, so no matter where you chose to stop reading, you have a solid, and satisfying end.

Thanks for reading, got an idea for another part, but honestly I'm not sure I'll continue this one. FW)

* * *

Castiel shifted his head to bury his mouth and nose in Dean's hair, his arms wrapped around Dean's shoulders in the darkness.

In his sleep, Dean's hand was searching Castiel's bare skin. It started near his sternum, moving to his ribs.

"Mbaby..." Dean slurred against Castiel's neck.

"I'm here, Dean." Castiel whispered.

Dean moved his hand down to Castiel's hip, taking hold of his ass, pulling him closer, pressing the front of Castiel's hips against his stomach.

They'd been so comfortable as a couple lately...

* * *

Castiel sat comfortably, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa, knees splayed, one arm on the right side armrest, holding the remote.

Dean lay sideways, the back of his head on Castiel's chest, Castiel's other arm coming forward over his shoulder, resting across his chest. Dean held a large bowl of popcorn, eating it with his left hand, his right wrapped around the inside of Castiel's left knee.

The room the three of them had turned into a den was finally starting to make the bunker feel like a home, especially after a particularly good night at pool, when Dean had picked up enough cash to get a decent couch and a regular sized television that would work with Sam's Netflix account.

"There, see? Back it up, I'm telling you... There's no way." Dean said, gesturing at the tv.

Castiel backed the video up by a minute or so, and pressed play.

"Right there. It's obvious, right?" Dean asked.

"His friend was injured, Dean."

"Yeah, but look where his legs were... and then when he goes to check his back, his hand is on his hip, man. They might not know they're doing it, but those characters? They're in the closet."

Castiel wondered if Dean was projecting. He did see some similarities between between Dean and the character of the sheriff, even if physically he much more resembled the deputy who was after the sheriff's job.

"The sheriff's friend has an odd manner of speaking." Castiel commented.

"Mmmm. Slim, muscley guy, long legs, dark hair with a couple of grays, talks funny... Reminds me of someone I know." Dean said, chuckling.

Castiel smiled slightly, and ran his fingers across the stubble on Dean's cheek in response. "I suppose in your theory, that would make you Walt?"

Dean turned slightly, dropping his head lower to look up at Castiel with a smirk, "I'm sure I've got a badge around here someplace. Why? You wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy?"

"I thought we were just watching TV today?" Castiel said, genuinely confused.

"Hey, if you want to support your local sheriff, that's what the pause button is for." Dean said, sitting up and climbing onto Castiel's lap. "C'mon, Standing Bear, we can play cowboys and indians... You wanna see my Longmire? I'll let you stick me with your cattle prod."

* * *

Castiel could feel Dean, growing against his thigh.

Dean had done this a few times before, leading to a long discussion on their boundaries. Castiel had been allowing less than what Dean was comfortable with, and much less than he would have prefered.

Castiel relaxed into Dean's touches as he recalled their conversation.

* * *

"Dean, wake up!" Castiel's voice hadn't been loud, but it was urgent.

Dean was sitting up immediately, looking around for the source of danger. "What is it?"

"Dean, you... you've been... you were touching me, in your sleep."

Dean rubbed his face. "Hmn... sorry, Cas. Not much I can do about that. But if I make you uncomfortable, you know you don't have to let me."

Castiel turned away from him. It was clear to Dean something was wrong. "I didn't stop you. Even though I knew you weren't conscious... It was wrong of me. This isn't the first time this has happened, either, just the first time I've let you continue until I was aroused."

Dean moved closer, and pressed gentle kisses to Castiel's face. "I'm sorry, Dean, I should have stopped you sooner."

"Hey... it's okay... You should enjoy it, sweetheart, you know I like doing that stuff to you..." Dean said, bringing his hands to the sides of Castiel's face, kissing him tenderly. "Don't feel guilty for letting me touch you when I'm sleeping, I only want you to stop me if you want me to stop."

Castiel stopped resisting and allowed Dean to pull him into his arms, but still dealt with internal conflict.

"Maybe we just need some ground rules... If I'm hard, it's okay if you want to touch me, it's also okay not to, whatever you want to do... I'm sure you get bored just hanging out in bed all night... Just don't let me do anything to you that you don't want, and don't put anything in me unless I'm awake..."

* * *

Dean squirmed closer, causing contact that made Castiel gasp.

In his shifting around, Dean had managed to get their pelvises aligned, Castiel's arousal was growing to match Dean's.

* * *

Sam had finally gotten the new coffee table put together after letting the box from ikea and the extra tools sit in the den for a week while they'd been out on a hunt. He was taking the screwdriver and adjustable wrench back to the garage.

Sam opened the door, heading for the toolbench, only to find Dean and Castiel sitting on the floor on a large plastic sheet with an assortment of tools and parts of Castiel's car strewn about in no apparent order. Both of them were wearing a fair amount of engine grease, mostly concentrated on their hands.

"Wait, that doesn't come apart that w-"

The metal part snapped in Castiel's hands, and Dean scratched at his eyebrow with his thumbnail rather than say anything. "I'm sorry..."

Sam made for the door again, pausing before leaving. "You know, most old couples do puzzles together, so I guess you guys are about half way there."

Dean didn't look up. "Shut up, Sammy."

Sam left the room chuckling.

Castiel looked up. "Dean, as much as I'm enjoying learning about my car with you, the idea of having puzzles or games around does seem like a pleasant way to pass the time."

"You know, I can think of a game or two you might like." Dean said.

* * *

Castiel tried to quiet his panting, as Dean's soul wrapped around him, tracing delicate touches that made him shiver.

Dean's hand came between them to grasp them both, just giving slight squeezes in a pulsing rhythm, as he moaned quietly in his sleep.

Castiel began to kiss him, gently sucking at his lips, and wondering if his tongue would be a violation of Dean's rule.

He could feel it when Dean began to wake up.

"Dean...?" Castiel asked cautiously.

"Mm.. well, hope I didn't miss all the fun."

"You're awake now?" Castiel asked.

"If I'm not, don't wake me up." Dean said, leaning in for another kiss.

* * *

"What?" Dean asked blankly.

"It's a straight flush." Castiel repeated.

The two of them sat at a small folding table in their bedroom, having a game of cards. Dean had his boots off, and both had stripped to the waist.

"I can see that. But how do you know?"

"One of the books Metatron gave me was a book on the rules of card games."

"So this whole time I've been explaining things..."

Castiel smiled slightly. "I like listening to your voice."

"Okay... I suppose you're after my pants for this hand." Dean said, removing his belt.

* * *

Castiel pressed against him, their bare skin causing an accommodating pressure for both of them.

"Cas... you want me to get that one thing out?" Dean asked against his lips as their small movements became more intense.

"I'm... nervous, Dean."

"That's why we talked about it for so long." Dean said, moving to kiss Castiel's neck. "You're completely in control."

"I don't know if I'll be able to feel your soul if I wear it." Castiel said.

"We don't have to. It can stay put away forever, if that's what you want." Dean mumbled against Castiel's skin.

* * *

"Cas, I want to ask you something, but it's a sore subject... don't get mad at me?" Dean said, causing Castiel to look up from his book.

"How can I anticipate my reaction if I haven't yet heard the question?"

Dean nodded. "Okay, you know what? You might get mad, and if you do, that's my fault... That, um... the chain... that one time... how does it work?"

"You're referring to the time you violated my trust, and nearly-"

"Yes."

"It neutralizes my power. I can't hide my wings, they slowly become flesh, bone, and feathers. I can't use my grace for anything at all, including healing, I can't resist anyone. I become completely helpless... And unlike you, with your handcuffs, ...that frightens me."

Dean slowly wrapped his arms around Castiel. "I don't want you to feel scared, I'm just trying to learn, okay?... If there were less of that chain on you, would it neutralize less of your power? Leave you able to fight back?"

Castiel seemed unnerved at the discussion. Dean squeezed him a little tighter.

"In theory, it may be a possibility." Castiel said.

"I have an idea, Cas. Just hear me out, okay?"

* * *

"You'll hear me this time?"

"I will... I swear to you, I will Cas." Dean said, rocking his hips slightly. "Only going to do what you want, you're in charge."

Castiel nodded. "We can try."

Dean rolled onto Castiel reaching for the drawer.

* * *

Castiel was visibly nervous as Dean placed a single open link from the jewelrylike chain in the angel's palm.

"You feel okay?" Dean asked, anxious when Castiel didn't move.

"I feel no different." Castiel responded.

"Okay, but what can you do right now? That's what we need to find out..." Dean said, thinking it over. "Hit me."

Castiel hesitated. "I don't want to hit you."

"C'mon, man, it's not like you haven't hit me before." Dean said.

Castiel slowly moved into an aggressive stance giving Dean ample time to prepare, before knocking the other man to the ground.

"Okay..." Dean said, allowing Castiel to help him up. "Let's try that with two."

Castiel pulled him back by his arm, raising his hand to Dean's face, healing him. Dean gave him a quick peck on the cheek in response before turning back to the workbench, where the chain sat, several links having been removed, sitting loose by two pairs of tiny pliars.

Dean picked up a second link, and walked back to Castiel. Understandably, Castiel was keeping his distance.

Castiel held out his hand again, as Dean placed the link near the other on his palm. "Anything now?"

Castiel shook his head.

Dean nodded. "Okay, go ahead."

Castiel hit him, and once again, Dean spilled his ass.

"You're sure this is the same chain, right?" Dean said, again getting pulled from the floor.

"I'm very certain, Dean." Castiel said, healing him.

Dean took hold of Castiel's hand that held the links. "Let me see..."

Castiel spread open his palm. Dean gingerly put one link through the other. "Now, how do you feel?"

"I feel... smaller?" Castiel said, raising his gaze to Dean's eyes.

"Hit me?"

Castiel closed his hand around the linked loops of metal, raising his other hand. With this strike, Dean turned his head slightly, but he didn't fall. "What the hell was that? A love pat? Don't hold back."

"I have never struck you full force, Dean. Even when I wanted to kill you." Castiel admitted. "Even so, I was expecting more of a reaction."

"So it's working... hit me harder."

Castiel made another attempt, this time making Dean take a step back.

"Better... so you're kinda weakened, but you can fight back... You feel safe right now? You know, considering...?"

Castiel shifted nervously. "I'm... apprehensive. This feels similar to being human."

"That could be a good thing, you know. Might get your P.B. and J's back." Dean said with a small smile.

"I don't want to try with any more links, Dean. This is disconcerting enough." Castiel said.

Dean nodded. "Okay. You feel in control of yourself? Not about to take any stupid orders, like if I tell you to quack like a duck?"

Castiel shook his head.

"Okay, one last thing we need to know, can you ditch it when you want to?" Dean held out his hand, and Castiel tipped the links into his palm. "Okay, good."

Dean went to the tool bench, and closed each of the links.

"Dean?" Castiel said quietly, getting him to look up. "Before you put that away, I'd like to test a few things myself."

"You really want that sandwich, huh?" Dean chuckled, holding the two links, now closed through each other, out on his open palm. "Look, just be careful. And don't lose those, we don't want anything happening accidentally."

Castiel nodded, and picked up the two links.

Dean set the pliars down. "You know your wings are showing? Just a little..."

* * *

Dean pulled a small box out of the drawer. "I know I said I'd put them on a cord or something, to make it easier, but after I thought about it... It didn't seem right, after what I did, putting anything around your neck or your wrist. But our hands are about the same size, so this should work."

Dean put the empty box down, and slipped a cold piece of metal onto Castiel's finger. "Make sure you can take it off."

Castiel took the ring off, and put it back on.

The design was simple and masculine, and reminded Castiel of a ladder. The two links were connected to each other on the outside of the ring, and connected through holes on the ring itself, making contact with his skin.

Dean settled his hand on Castiel's ribs, running his thumb over his angel warding tattoo.

"Dean, ...this is-" Dean cut him off with a kiss.

"We don't have to talk about it right now." Dean said, reaching for another item from the drawer. "We can talk about anything you want later, I swear."

Castiel nodded, fully intending to question him later.

"You okay?... I mean, you want this, right?" Dean asked in a hushed whisper.

Castiel nodded, pulling him in for a deeper kiss, and adjusting his legs around Dean's waist.

"Baby, I need to hear it." Dean stated clearly.

"I want this, Dean... I want you." Castiel said, looking into his eyes.

Dean dropped his mouth to Castiel's neck, finding the places he'd become so familiar with, and treating them tenderly.

Castiel shuddered and moaned, clutching at Dean's shoulders. "Dean... I'm... ohhh, that's good..."

Dean raised his head. "What do you need, sweetheart?"

"I can feel it, all of it, now... your soul and your body..." Castiel panted a few breaths and muttered in Enochian, the last words coming out in a whining whimper as Dean shifted lower, kissing and nipping at Castiel's chest, his body dragging against Castiel's erection.

Dean made his way back up, taking his time playing with Castiel's lips, swallowing the taste of him, touching the side of Castiel's face to encourage him to stay still. He nudged Castiel's chin with his own, coaxing him to open his mouth further, and taking his tongue between his lips, sucking gently, working at it with his own tongue, and rocking his hips against him.

With a sudden thrash, Castiel rolled his shoulders side to side as Dean broke away, freeing his very physical wings.

Dean pulled back, lifting his body well off of Castiel, looking down at his lover, still breathing heavily. "Goddamn..."

Castiel refocused, looking up at Dean. "What's the matter?"

"You're just.. well, you're beautiful." Dean said, almost lost for words. "Are you okay like this? Do we need to move for your wings?"

Castiel shook his head, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow catching what little light there was. "No... I'm happy where I am."

Dean looked at Castiel's wings spread to either side, hanging off the sides of the bed. "Cas... I'm scared I'm going to break them... Baby, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." Castiel said quietly, wrapping his legs around Dean's waist, pulling him closer. Dean, not entirely convinced, pressed a kiss to his lips once more, pulling lightly at the lower one before moving to his jawline.

"Mm.. how are you so hot?" Dean mumbled, pressing his teeth against Castiel's skin in a mock-bite, feeling the shape of the bone below the skin.

"Body temperature increases during sex." Castiel said quietly.

"Oh, is that what we're doing?" Dean asked in a joking and sarcastic manner.

"Maybe you didn't realize it because you're going so slow." Castiel said with more than a hint of irritation.

Dean reached down to where he had tucked the lube into the back of his knee to warm it. "Point taken."

"No, I haven't taken your point, that's the problem."

Dean flipped the top of the bottle open, spilling a generous amount onto his fingers, leaving a messy line of it to fall across Castiel's chest.

"Dean, what- ohhh, sonofabitch..." Castiel said, echoing a favorite phrase of his lover's as Dean's fingers began to work around the outside of his tight hole. Dean's mouth came down on his chest, licking, biting, and sucking at the spilled fluid.

"Next time, mm... I want cherry flavored." Dean mumbled, his mouth busy with Castiel's flesh.

Castiel attempted to answer, but all he could manage was a gasping moan.

"You want more, sweetheart, I need to know." Dean said, before running his tongue over Castiel's nipple.

"I need more," Castiel managed in desperation. "Please, Dean... keep going..."

Dean pressed inside, his movements constant, but as delicate as he could manage. "Is that good?"

Castiel squirmed, moaning, as Dean slowly opened him up, adding a finger, and finding a nipple with his mouth. Castiel's wings rustled impatiently. "Dean, please!"

"Shhh... it's okay, I'm going slow on purpose. Try to relax."

"Don't make me beg..." Castiel whined.

"I don't know, you're pretty close to it now," Dean said, adding a finger and feeling Castiel clench around him as he arched his back with a deep groan. "Kinda turns me on."

Castiel took hold of one of Dean's nipples, and pulled him closer by it, growling, "Fuck me, Dean!"

In reflex, Dean let out an open mouthed whimper and stopped his hand completely, looking Castiel in the eyes. "Baby, you want to play rough, you can do anything you want to me tomorrow. You can break my hand, fuck up my car, literally rip me a new one. Thirty years in Hell, I can take anything you got, and you can heal me after... But that's not what we're doing right now..."

Castiel, confused, slightly shaking, and somewhat frustrated, let go of Dean's nipple. Dean leaned closer, kissing him gently, giving a quiet hum as he did, and started to move his hand again.

Castiel panted and moaned, arching his back again.

Dean settled his weight on his legs, using his free hand to wrap around Castiel's hardened member, moving his hands at the same rhythm, and watching Castiel writhe and buck, enjoying the cacophony of wanton noises he drew from Castiel's mouth.

He slowed to a stop, and leaned forward. "You ready for me, Cas?"

Castiel grabbed at Dean, looking for any connection he could manage, drunk on sex hormones and exhilaration. "Yes! ...Please, Dean..."

Dean slid his hand out gently, and oriented himself, giving Castiel plenty of time to stop him. He pressed inside slowly. He was silently focused on Castiel's movements and sounds until he was completely buried inside. He moved his lips against Castiel's neck again, moving closer to his ear.

Dean started to move slowly, kissing his way along Castiel's jaw to his lips. He stilled again after Castiel moaned deeply into his mouth, lifting his head a few inches to look into Castiel's eyes.

"I love you, Cas... I want you to know, I mean that. Not some kind of crush, or fuck buddies, I mean real love."

Castiel tried to calm his breathing. "Is that why...?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah... There's another one just like it in the drawer, no links... Not exactly like we can do this for real, you know, since you're not human, but for us... if we just kind of decide for ourselves that's what we are, that's as real as real gets, right?... I mean, if you'll have me, Castiel."

Castiel raised his head, claiming Dean's mouth with his own. "I will always have you, Dean."

Dean kissed him back deeply, thrusting a little harder, still taking his time.

"Your wings... Baby, can I touch them?" Dean asked.

Castiel moaned deeply, "Ohhhh, that would feel good..."

Dean kept his pace steady as he worked a hand up to Castiel's shoulder, letting his fingers drop lower to stroke gently at the tiny black feathers covering the top of the wing.

"That's really soft..." Dean whispered against Castiel's neck.

Castiel shivered, his hips moving more insistently now. Dean sped up slowly, still keeping his movements gentle, dragging his fingertips along the top of the wing, toward the joint in the middle of its length.

Castiel tightened his legs around Dean's waist, lifting his hips off the bed during each gentle thrust.

Dean shifted to put his elbows on the bed above Castiel's shoulders and wings, running his hands in the angel's hair, consuming him in a deep kiss, feeling the heat of Castiel's seed between their two stomachs as Castiel clenched around his body thrashing with a bone shattering scream, completely coming apart at the seams. Dean was just a moment behind, whispering echoes of his love into Castiel's ear as his body shook, and together they sank into the bed, still and complete.

Dean pressed his lips against Castiel's neck, delicately fingering at the feathers again.

Castiel panted and shook, "Don't, don't... too much right now..."

Dean gently lifted his hand away, bringing it to rest on Castiel's chest with a while whispering an apology.

"Sorry, baby... I love you."

"I love you, too, Dean." Castiel murmured in his haze.

After a few moments Dean slowly withdrew from Castiel's body, staying close against him, avoiding his wings and reaching for the drawer one more time.

"Here.." Dean said, taking Castiel's left hand, replacing the ring he wore with the unmodified one. "This one is for you, and I'll wear the other one... any time you want, we can trade for a little while... I'll be careful not to touch you with it, and if we're hunting, I'll put it away just to be safe."

Castiel took the ring containing the two links of angel chain, placing it on Dean's left hand, and sat up, making contact with the links of angel chain, his wings unfurling again as he moved closer for a kiss.


	6. Part 6, Keep Breathing

Part 6, Keep Breathing

(A/N: Oh, what this story has done to me... one minute I think I'm done, the next, hey, longest upload to FFN I've ever done! For the record, I'm not complaining. I've enjoyed it, thoroughly, and if views are any indication, so have you. ;)

Something to watch for, the bit where Dean says everything without saying a word. Loved it! Would love some feedback.

*Warning!* There is consensual domination/submission with some s&m in this one. Enough that I had to step away from it for a couple of days, because it went too far, even for me. Didn't think that was a thing, as I'm the one wiring it, but yes, those guys went too far, I had to take some stuff out...

There is also gore of a medical, nonsexual nature, with lots of blood, and pain.

If you watch the show, you're probably fine, but please take care of your mental health. Thanks for reading! FW)

* * *

Dean got up from the table in the library, taking his glass with him when he heard the door of the bunker. He met Castiel at the foot of the stairs, and wrapped his arms around the angel, pulling him in close, resting his mouth in the crook of his neck.

"Ramiel is dead. His underlings scattered. I'm not sure his second in command is fit to lead them, should they regroup." Castiel said shaking slightly, winding his arms around Dean's waist.

Dean pulled back enough to kiss him gently, then rested their foreheads together. "I missed you. And I'm glad you're home safe."

"I need your ring, Dean." Castiel said quietly.

"Hm-nn. Not tonight, baby. I've been drinking." Dean said softly, shaking his head.

"I can tell, but my wing is badly damaged, and I don't have another angel around to help me." Castiel replied, gripping Dean to keep his balance.

"Shit... Sam would probably be our best bet." Dean said, setting his glass on the table, gently guiding Castiel toward the hallway. "How bad is it? You wanna do this in the bedroom or the lab?"

"I think a pin feather may have broken. There could be a lot of blood when it becomes corporeal. The spear didn't come out, either." Castiel said, leaning on Dean.

"You're walking around with a spear in one of your wings? ...So the lab, then." Dean said, supporting him. He called out to his brother as they continued down the hall. "Sam! Wake up, I'm gonna need some help!"

* * *

Sam carried two beers into the den, passing one to Dean as he moved to the oversized armchair he'd gotten on Craigslist.

Dean sat on the right end of the sofa, his left hand dangling behind, Cas immediately to his left, his hands resting on his lap. They were comfortable, but with space between them.

The television was quiet, as Captain Kirk snuck around a corner.

"I'm going to make myself a sandwich." Castiel announced in a happy tone. "Should I bring anything else back from the kitchen?"

Dean shook his head, not breaking his staring match with the screen.

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks." Sam said, indicating his beer.

Castiel got to his feet, and left the room.

Sam watched him go, and leaned forward onto his elbows, looking at Dean expectantly. "Dude."

Dean looked over at Sam with raised eyebrows, his typical 'you're interrupting my song/burger' look.

"Is Cas wearing a wedding band?"

Dean looked back to the television, taking a drink from his bottle of beer as he raised his left hand from behind the back of the couch, palm forward, his ring visible, before dropping his hand again.

Sam's jaw dropped, and he sputtered. He managed actual words before leaning back in his chair to take it all in. "Uh... Mazel Tov."

Dean continued to stare at the television and drink his beer.

Castiel came back, stripped to the waist, carrying a small plate containing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a glass of milk, which he set on the coffee table as he resumed his seat, this time sitting forward toward the edge.

"Cas... Why's your shirt off?" Sam asked.

Castiel looked as though he didn't understand the question, "Because otherwise I wouldn't be able to taste my sandwich... Dean, do you mind assisting me?"

Dean used his thumb to turn his ring around, bringing the links to the palm side of his hand. He kept his gaze on the television and moved his hand to rest comfortably on the bare skin at Castiel's waist.

Sam gawked as Castiel's large opalescent black wings shifted into existence. The angel took a bite of his sandwich, clearly and audibly pleased, and allowed his wings a satisfied flap.

Sam shook his head and tried to focus on the show, chalking it up to another level of 'new normal.'

"So... congratulations... I don't know if I should put an announcement in the paper, but maybe I can call some folks, if you guys want to celebrate?"

Castiel paused between bites, picking up the glass of milk. "Thank you, Sam, but I don't think that would be necessary."

Sam noticed Dean didn't seem to care, but his thumb was making tiny motions on Castiel's skin. "Man, you guys really are two of a kind."

* * *

Sam stumbled out of his door, rubbing sleep from his eyes, trying to let his vision adjust.

"Cas is hurt."

Sam stepped forward, taking Castiel's other arm.

Together the brothers made light work of getting Castiel into the lab, and hefted him to sit on the exam table in the middle of the room.

Sam pulled out his phone and did an internet search for x-rays of bird wings while Dean helped Castiel out of his coat and jacket.

"Okay, look at these and tell me which one looks most like what we should be seeing." Sam said, holding the phone up for Castiel as Dean quickly removed his tie and shirt.

"The third one... that one." Castiel said, pointing.

"Okay," Sam said, putting it down on the table next to Castiel, moving to the medical supplies. "And what are we going to have to do when they come out?"

"Stop the bleeding if there's any, and pull out the spear." Castiel answered. "After the spear is out, I should be able to heal myself, once the ring is off."

"Ring?" Sam asked, looking between them.

"Mine." Dean said, gruffly. "It's got angel kryptonite in it. Makes him humanish, and his wings turn real."

* * *

"Okay, there's a wait for a lane, so we've got some time to kill. You want to hit the arcade?" Dean asked.

Castiel nodded.

Dean got a couple of arcade cards at a self serve kiosk, and led the way to the skeeball machines, passing Castiel one of the cards.

"Okay, so you swipe the card, and you get six balls. Then, you're going to-"

"Put balls in holes." Castiel said with a nod.

"Babe! ... There's kids around. Don't say stuff like that." Dean said.

"I thought that was the object of the game?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah, but... look, just, never quote that movie around children." Dean said, picking up one of the balls.

"That movie was rather amusing." Castiel said with a shy smile. "But I see your point, Dean."

A few rounds later, they moved on to another game. Dean, far more familiar with the controls, was the winner.

"That was interesting." Castiel said, letting go of the wheel. "I don't think I'd like to attempt it in our actual cars, though."

"Yeah, you wouldn't, because mine's faster." Dean smirked.

Castiel looked at another game, a two player zombie hunt. Dean was about to swipe his card, but Castiel stopped him.

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, okay. I guess we've got enough of that already, huh?"

* * *

"Okay... You ready, Cas?..." Sam asked, approaching slowly with a packet of a blood clotting chemical.

Castiel nodded, and Dean pulled his ring off, handing it to the angel carefully.

Sam took another quick look at the picture on his phone as he moved it out of the way.

Castiel shoved Dean's ring onto his right hand in one fast movement, letting loose a painful yell as his wings unfurled.

The bleeding came quickly, a thin, steady stream falling on the table. Sam and Dean each caught hold of Castiel's wing gingerly, and Sam located the broken blood feather, and pushed the damaged end into the paper packet.

"How do you bleed out of a feather, anyway?" Dean asked, holding Castiel's wing still with one hand, and rubbing his back in an attempt to comfort him with the other as he stood behind the table.

"They start with a blood vessel inside, it retracts as the feather grows. Like a dog's toenail...That's why it's hollow." Sam explained. "It's coming too fast, it's not clotting, just washing it out..."

"What do you need?"

"A candle, any kind of wax, something we can scrape it on and build a plug inside the opening." Sam said, trying to press some of the powder into the feather by hand, both of his hands quickly getting covered in the red fluid.

Dean tore out of the room.

* * *

"Cas, are you up for it tonight?" Dean asked, as he wiped off the stove.

"It has been a few days." Castiel said, putting the leftover containers in the fridge as Dean had asked him to.

"Nobody else here to irritate, so I was thinking about maybe getting a little crazy." Dean said, testing the waters.

Castiel said nothing. Dean wasn't sure if he should be specific, or wait for Castiel to think it over.

Dean turned to rinse out the kitchen sponge, and jumped when Castiel slapped his ass particularly hard.

He threw a glance at Castiel over his shoulder, catching a rather dominating gaze as the angel left the room.

* * *

Dean was back a moment later with a light brown lump. He passed it to Sam as he moved to take Castiel's shoulder. "Here, it's beeswax, I couldn't find any candles."

Sam went quickly, scraping the broken feather across the wax repeatedly, as Castiel shook and groaned in pain.

Dean squeezed his shoulder. "It's okay, it's okay. It'll be over soon."

"I got it. It's stopped." Sam said, standing up.

"Okay, what about this thing?" Dean asked, gesturing to the long golden cylinder with a tip shaped into a triangular blade, that stuck through the large wing covered in black feathers.

* * *

Dean approached the open bedroom door through the dark hallway. He walked slowly, uncertain what he would find.

Castiel sat at their card table playing some variation of solitaire he had never seen before. His coat, jacket, and tie were hung on the back of the chair.

"So, uh... you want me to wait until you finish your game?" Dean asked quietly, earning him only a stern look from Castiel, as he placed down a card, letting it flick into place.

"You don't remember." Castiel said, making a firm statement.

"Remember what?" Dean asked, his trepidation growing.

"A few nights ago, in your sleep, you asked me to join you in your dream. Do you remember it now?" Castiel asked.

"Doesn't ring a bell. What was it about?"

"Let's just say, I don't know if you remember your safe word, but I do." Castiel said, getting up from his seat.

Dean shook his head slightly, his eyes tinged with apprehension.

Castiel leaned in next to his ear, careful not to touch him. "It's the name of the hotel we were in, Dean. The first time. You had to explain it to me in your dream, but you remembered."

He stepped back again, and watched as Dean swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah, I remember the name."

"Put your ring on the dresser, Dean. You're not going to be my husband tonight... you're a toy, to be played with as it amuses me, and left on the floor when I'm done."

Dean felt weak in the knees, but complied, taking off his ring and setting it down on the dresser top. "How crazy is this going to get, Cas?"

As he turned back around, Castiel slapped him across the face. It wasn't hard, but it made his skin burn. He flinched slightly as Castiel grabbed his shoulder, pulling him close, staring into his eyes. "I have seen your mind. I know what turns you on, my dear one. I know what you need. I also know what would be too much, and leave you broken, no matter how badly you may want it from me... Do you trust me?"

Dean nodded. "Completely."

"Get on your knees."

Dean moved to the floor where he was, noticing as he got to his knees how his jeans pulled. He hadn't been this hard, this fast since Castiel had put him against the wall in the hotel.

Castiel sauntered back to the table, turning the back of his chair to the wall, relaxing into it with an air about him that screamed 'pissed off.'

"Take off your clothes... slowly." Castiel resumed his card game, most of the time just staring at Dean, as he knelt in the middle of the floor.

Dean tried not to shake as his need grew steadily. He slid his hands to his waistband, and peeled his shirt off over his head as slowly as he could, knowing the entire time, Castiel wouldn't blink.

Staying on his knees, he reached behind him, in a type of stretch his daily life rarely called for, and untied his boots, slipping them off, and moving them quietly to the floor by the bed. His socks weren't too difficult, and his jeans took enough time on their own, as he was kneeling, that he didn't feel the need to slow himself down.

"Keep going." Castiel's voice came from the side of the room.

Dean swallowed again, and worked his way out of his boxers.

Finally, he was completely naked, kneeling before Castiel. His rock hard erection begged for touch, from any source it could get. He wanted to let his hands wander... but what would Castiel do if he did?

Castiel harshly flicked another card into place. "Are you cold?"

Dean shook his head.

"Crawl to me." Castiel said, putting down the stack of cards in his hands.

Dean leaned forward, putting his palms on the floor, and began to make his way to Castiel. Given that he'd been instructed to undress slowly, he assumed he was meant to move slowly as well.

Castiel's eyes ran over the curves of the muscles in Dean's arms and shoulders. Dean wondered if Castiel was considering all the things he could make Dean do, and what twisted thoughts might have popped up in his dreams, desperate desires that he may not even be aware of that Castiel could fulfill for him.

Dean stopped when he got to Castiel's chair, feeling those eyes staring down on his naked flesh.

"You've been on the floor in front of me before, don't pretend to be shy."

Dean looked up.

"You've also gone too far before, stolen control from me, control you had begged me to take. I won't have that happen tonight."

Castiel unfastened his slacks with dexterous fingers, inching toward the edge of the chair. He took Dean's chin in his hand, fingers and thumb curled into the man's cheeks, displacing his lips "You may use your hands, lips, and tongue, but you're not going to penetrate your mouth at all."

Dean nodded, and Castiel let go. Dean slowly, gently removed Castiel's belt, setting it up on the card table, silently praying Castiel would take it as a hint. He pulled the angel free of his clothing, and ran his wet lips down the length of him before dragging back up slowly with his tongue.

Dean gripped Castiel with both hands, and rubbed the tip of his member over his lips several times. He tried to form a rhythm, desperate to take him in, all of him, and feel him, warm and hard in the back of his throat, squirming for more.

"Stop." Castiel said harshly. "I know what the inside of your cheek feels like... you went too far."

Dean let go and backed up.

Castiel stood and went to the other side of the room.

Dean didn't move, listening to the sound of the closet door opening. He heard the scrape of something being pulled down from the wooden shelf above the hanger bar, followed by Castiel's slowly returning footsteps.

"Get up." Castiel growled. "I'm not the one bending over tonight."

Dean gasped quietly at the hardness of Castiel's words, knowing the far more powerful being could rip him to shreds.

Something was dragged slowly down the skin of his back, making him shiver.

Castiel grabbed Dean's hands roughly, tying them with a wide black suede strap behind his back. When he stopped, Dean twisted his wrists to test the bonds, but couldn't move them. His hands would be completely useless to him.

Dean struggled slightly, mostly to make sure he still had circulation in his hands, but it felt good to affirm he was indeed rendered helpless, and was completely at the mercy of the angel.

Castiel shoved Dean to the floor. Dean hit the cold tile hard, stifling a moan as he got up onto his knees. Castiel paced a bit, stopping in front of him, roughly grabbing at his hair.

"You really can't control yourself, can you?" He asked. "Are you that starved for my affection?"

Dean looked up into his eyes. "Yes... always... Please... I want you. I want you to make me yours. No one else's."

Castiel let go of his hair roughly, and turned to the chair adding his shirt to the clothes on the back of the chair, and picking up his belt. He stalked over to Dean's discarded jeans, fishing something out of the pocket before crossing the room again, collecting something else from the nightstand.

Castiel left something on the bed behind him, Dean was sure, but suddenly he was shoved over onto the floor again.

This time, Castiel rolled him onto his back, struggling with his arms and hands bound below him, trying to find a way to get comfortable.

Castiel straddled his naked body at the elbows, lording above him, waiting for him to still.

When Dean stopped moving, Castiel slipped the belt under the back of his head, circling his neck and pulling it through the buckle. He held onto the length of it as he held up Dean's pocket knife, and slowly opened one of the smaller, sharper blades.

"Don't move... don't even breathe."

Dean trembled, and arched his neck back in submission. He was sure Castiel wouldn't hurt him, no more than he wanted to feel, anyway. This left him able to revel in his mocked up fear and mild pain.

Castiel bored a hole in the leather belt, and fastened it. He tied the rest around the band to get it out of the way, and stood, his feet on either side of Dean, bending down to wrap his hand into the makeshift collar, using it to haul Dean to his knees once again.

He picked up the plug and lube from the bed, applying some to the device and turning back to Dean. "I want to hear you resist."

Dean nodded, looking at the floor as Castiel stepped behind him.

"Please don't do this." Dean said, his voice quiet.

"If you want to stop, you have to say it." Castiel said, waiting to see if Dean would.

"I'm not saying it... Just, don't do this."

Castiel took hold of Dean's bound hands, and raised them, bending him forward, straining his tightly muscled shoulders, and pressing the tip of the plug to his opening.

The sudden movement, and the chill somewhere so sensitive left Dean gasping and moaning. "Oh, god... no... no, no, no, no, no... Please, Cas... Please, stop..."

Castiel brought Dean's hands back down, making sure he could take the rim in his fingers. "I won't be doing this to you, you will..."

Castiel stood up and started to circle Dean. "Press it in."

"Cas, please... don't make me do this." Dean said, his voice not quite breaking. "I don't want to do it."

"Press it in, Dean."

Dean gasped and shook slightly as he widened his legs and began to work the tapered plug into his body. He groaned. "Please! Cas!"

Dean settled it inside of him, panting with the effort it had taken with his hands bound.

"That wasn't so difficult, was it?" Castiel asked, not expecting an answer as he came to stand directly in front of Dean.

Between the feel of himself adjusting to the size of the plug, and the restraints, it took Dean a moment to realize Castiel had removed the rest of his clothes.

Castiel ran his fingers through Dean's hair, hard, jerking his head as he went, before grabbing the belt around his throat again and hauling him to his feet.

Dean gasped as the plug shifted inside him, and swayed as Castiel held him upright.

Castiel dragged the back of one thumbnail from the middle of Dean's thigh, up slowly, catching a secret place on his hip bone, something only the two of them knew about, before continuing up closer to his ribs.

Dean did his best to hold still, but couldn't stop shaking at the feel of Castiel's touch. Castiel neared his nipple slowly. Just as he was about to reach it, he dropped his hand.

Castiel waited until Dean had control of himself again before taking hold of the belt, and pulling him forward roughly, claiming his mouth with his own. Dean moaned deeply as Castiel pushed his tongue in further, and started taking deep breaths gasping through his nose. Castiel didn't let up until Dean's moans became insistent whimpers.

Castiel pulled Dean's head back by his hair. "Say it... Make me stop."

Dean tried to shake his head. "I'm not gonna say it."

"You want this?" Castiel asked, "You want to be my bitch?"

Dean, fighting the pain it brought to his scalp, looked into Castiel's eyes with mischief. He still shook slightly as he answered. "I already am."

Castiel spun Dean around, tackling him to the floor. Dean felt him pull away for a moment, but a second later he was back.

Castiel lifted his hands by the bonds, until Dean's face was against the cold tile, and put his other hand up between his shoulder blades, dragging his nails, scratching his way down as Dean's breath came out in a loud open mouthed moan.

Dean felt the plug pulled out roughly.

"Say it, Dean! Make me stop!" Castiel growled.

"I won't." Dean choked out. "Please, Cas!"

A moment later Castiel entered him fast, Dean screamed as he felt him hit the place within him Castiel always knew how to find.

Castiel took hold of Dean's forearms, and began to thrust hard.

Dean tried to push back against him, tried to open his legs further, pretty sure his mind was gone. Castiel shifted, flattening him against the floor, and continued to thrust.

Dean allowed his cries of pleasure to build with the tension inside his body. He knew he was close, well past the point of desperation, when Castiel pulled all the way out of him, and got to his feet.

Castiel, shaking, not that Dean could see it, went back to his chair.

Dean waited on the floor for a few moments, choking back sounds of weakness before rolling onto his side.

"Cas?..." Dean's voice came out a broken whimper.

Castiel said nothing as he put down two more cards.

Dean tried to right himself, but his body betrayed him.

"In your dream, you wanted to be used. I've used you... But you aren't satisfied." Castiel said, looking him in the eyes.

Dean lifted his head, he wanted to beg and plead, but his every nerve was shot, his body overheated from sex, and at the same time, chilled from the floor.

"I suppose you want me to put you out of your misery." Castiel said.

Dean nodded, "Please, Cas..."

"Come here."

Dean struggled to his feet and slowly approached Castiel.

"Turn around."

Dean did as he was told.

Castiel untied Dean's hands, stood, and took hold of the makeshift collar, leading him to the bed with a hard tug.

Dean was still shaking with want as Castiel bound his hands together around the bed frame, as Dean faced downward to the pillows.

Castiel moved behind him once more, pulling his hips back until Dean's shoulders felt like they might pop. Castiel entered him again, not quite as roughly, but once again moving at a brutal pace.

Dean's body faltered as he lost himself to the movement and feeling, sounds coming involuntarily from deep in his throat.

Castiel threw his entire body forward, pressing Dean down into the bed, moving his hands to Dean's ribs. Dean was aware of a faint glow as Castiel continued to move, slowed by the tighter angle, but somehow, Dean's pleasure was building even higher.

Strangled moans escaped his lips as he writhed, then he realized Castiel was doing something entirely unhuman to him. Then, barely aware of it, he started to scream.

Dean felt his body felt as though it had exploded... was exploding... was a continuous explosion... Somewhere in the electric pleasure haze Dean found himself in, he wondered how long Castiel had managed to keep him suspended in his orgasm, before it intensified even further, and he lost track of all reality.

* * *

Castiel panted, trying to handle the pain in his wing.

"It's not too close to the bones, hold his wing." Sam said, wiping his drenched hands on his pajama pants in an attempt to dry them.

Dean stepped behind the table again, delicately taking a firm hold of Castiel's wing on either side of the spear. "I'm sorry, baby, it's almost over."

Sam gripped the spear with both hands, bracing himself. "Spread it out, don't let him pull it shut."

Dean slowly opened Castiel's wing, despite the growl of pain it caused.

* * *

As Dean came back to himself, he realized Castiel wasn't stopping. He was coming down, it had taken a while, but Castiel was still moving inside of him roughly. And it was quickly becoming too much for him to take.

Dean's voice started strong, but soon became a whimper. "Cas!... Stop!... Please, you gotta stop... Candlelight!"

Castiel was out of him, and off of him at a moment's notice.

Dean had spent so much energy on his bliss, Castiel wasn't certain at first if he was still conscious. Quickly, and gently, he untied Dean's hands from the bed frame, and moved slowly as he rolled him onto his back. Dean was still having the occasional tremor.

Slowly and gently, Castiel eased Dean's arms down to his sides, taking care not to add any discomfort to the joints he was sure had taken a fair amount of abuse.

Next, with delicate movements, he removed the belt from Dean's neck. He moved his hands to touch the man's face as Dean closed his eyes and sunk his cheek into Castiel's palm.

Dean was still breathing hard, and didn't want to move.

"Dean... are you all right?" Castiel asked softly.

Dean reached for Castiel, clutching him tight, and pulling him into a vice-like embrace. "I can't tell you how good that felt... I needed that so bad... I love you, Cas."

* * *

Sam put all his weight into pulling the spear, causing Castiel to scream in pain.

Sam was about to make a second attempt.

"STOP! It has to go through... it's barbed!" Castiel's voice came out a mess of gasps and sobs.

"Why didn't you tell us that first?" Dean asked.

"I didn't know!" Castiel shouted. "You can't see what it really looks like, and it's behind me!"

"Shit..." Sam muttered. "Okay, we're going through, you ready?"

Castiel breathed heavily, and nodded.

Dean spread his wing, and Sam gripped the shaft once again, this time pressing it further in. Castiel shuddered, cried out, and tried to close his wing on reflex.

As Sam stepped closer to the table, Castiel brought his hand up under Sam's arm to grip his shoulder.

"Okay, trade me." Sam said, giving Dean a nod.

Dean slowly switched his hands to to now longer side of the spear, and Sam moved his to grasp the wing.

"Almost done, Cas." Sam said, panting with his expended energy. "Almost... just a little further."

Dean adjusted his grip on the spear, and Sam spread the wing. Dean gave one final smooth pull, and the end of the spear came through, as Castiel clenched and yelled.

Passing out, Sam caught Castiel as he started to fall from the table, holding him upright. "Shit... Dean, he's in shock."

Dean dropped the spear and went around the table, grabbing for Castiel's right hand, tearing the ring off.

The moment Castiel's wings were gone, Sam turned the unconscious angel, scooping his legs onto the table to lay him down, and backed up, giving Dean room.

"Hey... Cas?... Sweetheart, wake up... The spear's out, ring's off, you're okay now." Dean said, leaning over him, stroking the side of Castiel's face.

Sam looked around. "Damn..."

Dean looked up.

Sam gestured to the mess that now covered the room and the three of them. "That's a lot of blood."

"Yeah, but he's not human. And he's been through a lot worse. He'll be okay."

Sam shifted uncomfortably as Dean turned back to Castiel. "You're sure?... I mean, he's got a heartbeat... or, y'know, whatever?"

"He's still breathing." Dean said quietly. "C'mon, baby, keep breathing..."

Sam nodded. "I'm going to start cleaning up."


	7. Part 7, Your Devotion

(A/N: Confession: I wanted to do this one right, so I actually read up on wings and feathers, and no, I don't mean other fics, lol... I was surprised by some things I didn't know, and I've incorporated it...

Also, just a reminder, _italics means Dean's thoughts, extra uninhibited, not actually voiced_.)

Part 7, Your Devotion

* * *

Dean walked into the dark, empty hotel room, setting a bottle on the table from a hidden spot in the side of the trunk of the Impala even Sam didn't know about.

Her perfume was still coming off his shirt, and it just made his heart ache worse.

* * *

"Please, Cas... you're starting to scare me, sweetheart... C'mon, wake up..." Dean said, trying not to look at the crimson splatter Sam was wiping up on the floor.

Dean's hands had a mind of their own as they wandered Castiel's face, neck and shoulders.

Dean leaned in close to Castiel's ear, the rest of the room forgotten, his voice barely a breath. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. I will always have you."

Castiel's eyes were open as Dean pulled back, and after a moment to check that he was in fact conscious, Dean quickly wrapped him in his arms, kissing him deeply.

Sam, happy to see his friend and brother in law was conscious, stopped scrubbing the floor for a moment, only to see Dean shove back suddenly and give Castiel a half-assed punch in the chest. "Don't ever worry me like that again! I can't take it!"

"Hey! Save it for the bedroom, guys." Sam spoke up. "You need anything else right now? Or you want to get out of here so I can get this done?"

"Keep scrubbing, Cinderella, and I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Dean said, helping Castiel off the table, and leaving the room.

* * *

Dean stripped off his jacket and shirts, faintly nauseous, but not far enough gone.

It had been too long. His mind was starting to accept the possibility that maybe this time Castiel wasn't answering because he couldn't.

He didn't bother to turn on any of the lights, sitting down with the bottle.

* * *

Castiel was exhausted. Dean had asked him for something special, and they'd traded rings that morning. He'd kept his wings folded as he moved about the bunker.

After a delicious dinner he had truly enjoyed, and a glass of scotch - far more potent than he normally felt it, but with a flavor he enjoyed, having associated it with Dean's kisses for so long - things were winding down for the evening.

Dean had kicked out of his boots and ditched his shirt, coming up behind Castiel to wrap his arms around him in the quiet of their bedroom as Castiel sorted some odd items left out on the card table.

Castiel could feel Dean's warm, firm chest against the black feathers of his wings. "You know you got a few loose ones hanging funny?... doesn't look comfortable."

"I suppose I've been neglecting them for some time. I don't have much occasion to preen them these last few years, trying to fit in with humans." Castiel said quietly.

"How do you do that?" Dean muttered, resting his lips in the crook of Castiel's neck.

"It's fairly similar to brushing hair, but it closes gaps in the feathers." Castiel said.

Dean lifted his hand to run through Castiel's hair, before settling into a gentle grasp toward the back of his head. "Can I help?"

Castiel chuckled. "Allopreening... I didn't expect that..."

"What's that?" Dean asked, letting his hand drop.

"Nevermind, Dean. Yes, you can help. I would like that very much." Castiel said, still smiling to himself.

Castiel turned in Dean's arms and motioned to the bed. Dean moved to the middle, sitting with his back against head board, and waited as Castiel sat down between his legs, his back toward Dean.

"Anything I should know?" Dean asked, watching carefully as Castiel stretched his wings out as far as they would go before relaxing them. "Damn... that is pretty... kinda like rainbows on black... heh, a rainbow in the dark, even."

"Do you remember when you had asked me if I had ever... I believe you used the term, 'cloud seeding?'" Castiel asked.

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, that was one hell of a night... though now, I wish I hadn't pushed you so hard."

"Do you remember what I said?"

"That you hadn't 'had occasion?'" Dean asked.

"I need you to be careful. And go slow."

Dean took a few breaths before he answered him. "Is that what this is?"

"It's just basic grooming if I do it for myself. But if someone else were to do it, it's more of a romantic bonding exercise. At least, that's my understanding." Castiel admitted.

"Mm... well you know I like that... what should I do to start?" Dean asked.

Castiel licked his lips thinking about the last time Dean had topped him. In a moment of passion Dean had stroked his wing, probably having no idea it had been the final straw for Castiel that evening. "Start close to my back, at the main joint... And go slow..."

Dean moved his hands below Castiel's wings, putting them into the tight spaces between the wings and his lover's back. "Do I comb through them, or how does this work?"

"Just run your hands over them, the small ones, if they need to come out, they'll stick to your hands." Castiel said, trying not to squirm.

Dean turned his hands to drag his palms against the edge of the soft down where it met the skin. Castiel closed his eyes, allowing himself to concentrate on the feeling.

Dean felt small tugs on his hands, that seemed to result in a soft dry powder coating his skin. He ran them through the same space again, listening carefully. As he expected, Castiel let out a tiny, comfortable hum.

He brought his hands out, moving to where the top of the wing met Castiel's shoulder and stroked down the center, slowly and firmly, as he got a feel for the right amount of friction. Castiel shivered.

"That was cute..." Dean said with a smirk.

"What was cute?" Castiel asked out of a slight haze, unaware he was swaying with Dean's touch.

"That squeaky sound you just made." Dean answered.

"I don't make squeaky sounds, Dean. My voice is lower than yours."

Dean repeated his action, pressing firmer, and spreading his fingers, causing a delighted high toned whimper ending in a very clear squeaking gasp to escape his lips. Dean leaned forward, whispering into Castiel's ear with a deep rumble. "Right. You don't squeak."

Dean ran his hands along the top of both wings, firmly following the curves around the joints, moving slow. Castiel dropped his head forward, curving his spine, extending his wings upward as Dean finished his strokes.

Castiel reached back below his wings, searching along Dean's thighs.

"Give me your hand," he panted.

Dean dropped his hands into Castiel's. Castiel felt the skin of Dean's palms as though searching for something before guiding Dean's right hand to where the bottom of the wing met his back. "Here... dig into the down, find the... the base of the feather, grip, and drag down."

Dean moved his fingers gently, deeper into the soft, fluffier feathers until he found the connection, and brought his hand gently down the feather as Castiel's hands moved to squeeze Dean's legs, hard.

Dean repeated the action on the other side, and soon got used to it, enough that he was comfortable using one hand on each wing.

One of the particularly long feathers came free in his hand.

"Hey... what do I do with this?" Dean asked, dragging it across the bare skin of Castiel's ribs, as he continued to work at the feathers of the other wing.

Castiel panted harder, and groaned out, "Crumble it into your hands, the powder helps... AHHH... Dean, that's very intense..."

Dean slowly moved his hands away, and crumbled the feather. It turned into the fine powder he had felt from the start, and coated his hands.

When he went to put his hands back into the flight feathers, Castiel arched and shook, choking on a moan.

"Baby, if this is too much for you right now, you know we can slow down." Dean suggested gently.

Castiel gasped, shaking his head. "Don't slow down!"

Dean kept going, trying to go faster and firmer, the occasional loose feather came out, but he quickly worked it back in, finally combing through the ones at the very tips.

Dean was certain Castiel's grip on his legs would have been intolerable had he been at full strength. Sweat was beading on Castiel's skin with the effort of his muscles reacting to the deep pleasure he was feeling.

Castiel squirmed hard, holding his breath before continuing to pant breathlessly. "Touch... touch the inside... mmmnnwhere you started... ahhh... to the tips.. Dean,... please..."

Dean drank in the desperation in Castiel's voice, as he moved his hands to comply.

"Don't stop!" Castiel whined, and put his head back on Dean's shoulder. "I need your voice!AHH!... Speak to me, please..."

Castiel bit down into his lip, hard.

"It's okay, I'm right here... You have got no idea how hot this is, Cas... Baby, I love seeing you like this, falling apart under my hands... so perfect, Castiel." Dean stroked the inside of each wing firmly, all the way to the tips, his lips finding Castiel's neck.

Suddenly Castiel's body gave a large thrash as he gripped Dean's legs tighter, and his entire body shook. Every feather seemed to fluff out, coating Dean's entire upper body in the powder as Castiel clenched and moaned Dean's name repeatedly.

Castiel's body, his entire torso, shoved backward into Dean, still writhing slightly as he started to come down. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, as gently as he could, trying not to touch his wings too firmly, whispering into his ear with a deep, soothing voice. "Shhh... that's good... this was good... good for us... never seen anything like it... I love you."

Dean pressed gentle kisses on Castiel's neck, waiting for the spent angel's breath to return to normal.

"So... in a way, I kinda got to pop your cherry tonight, huh?" Dean asked when Castiel turned to look into his eyes.

Castiel rolled his head slightly, and reached a hand up to Dean's cheek as he snuggled his forehead deeper into Dean's neck. "You did, Dean... I'm so glad it was you..."

"Did you know that was how it was going to be?" Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head hard. "No... if I had, I would have asked you a long time ago."

Dean tightened his arms around Castiel. "At least now we know you'll be able to sleep for real tonight... I'm looking forward to waking up with you tomorrow, like we planned."

* * *

Dean downed roughly three shots worth before laying back on the bed.

Finally loosened up and alone enough, he allowed the possibilities to sink in. Either Castiel had been captured, or killed. If he had been captured, on another plane or in an unknown area of the world, there was no way Dean could even begin to look for him...

And if he had been killed, their happily ever after, eternity...

* * *

Castiel felt unnerved when he realized he'd been unconscious for several hours. He was warm, surrounded by softness, and tangled with another body.

He groaned as he rolled away slightly, stubble from Dean's neck scratching against his eyebrow, only to be pulled back by strong arms.

Castiel reached an arm over Dean, rubbing at his back.

"Dean?" his voice came out as an odd croak, not something he was used to.

Dean's eyes opened briefly. "Morning, sunshine."

Castiel shifted his weight, one of his wings popped up of its own accord as he rolled onto his stomach, lifting himself up on his elbows.

When Dean opened his eyes again, Castiel was rubbing his face, hair and wings thoroughly askew, and couldn't help but chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Castiel asked, looking up.

Dean shook his head, "Nothing... Just really happy."

Castiel rubbed at his face again, "Caffeine..."

"You could trade me, then you wouldn't need it." Dean suggested.

Castiel sunk his face into the pillow and flopped his left hand towards Dean. Dean was about to switch their rings but decided against it.

"Hang on," he said, sitting up. "Just occurred to me, I didn't check on your spear-hole last night."

Castiel grumbled, vaguely and muffled.

Dean gently felt along the flesh above the joint. "That's about where, right?"

Castiel rolled his head just enough to answer. "I'm sure it's closed by now."

Dean separated a few of the feathers, and found only what looked like new skin in the process of healing.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"That tickles."

"Sorry, sweetheart." Dean smoothed the small feathers back into place, receiving a quiet, comfortable hum.

"Hey, Cas?... So, when we had to get the spear out... was that uncomfortable for you, when Sam grabbed your wing? I mean, since... y'know..." Dean asked, as he switched their rings.

His wings safely stowed, Castiel sat up, shaking the sleep from his mind. He took a lazy sideways look at Dean before climbing onto his lap facing him.

Castiel pressed his lips against Dean's neck, and pushed him down into the pillows.

"Cas?..."

"I'm answering you. Pay attention."

Castiel put one of Dean's arms above his head, and ran his fingers down the inside of Dean's upper arm, making him shiver. He continued to trail his fingers across Dean's chest and ribs, kissing him deeply and reaching back to stroke his inner thigh a few inches above his knee.

Despite Dean's obvious enjoyment, Castiel sat up. "I've aroused you, but I haven't touched you anywhere you wouldn't let someone else pull a bullet out of you."

Dean shook his head. "But, last night, that just seemed like... well..."

"That reaction occurred only because it was you. It's not what your body does to me, Dean, we've been over this." Castiel said, starting to climb off of him.

Dean grabbed Castiel's waist and sat up to kiss him hard. "So it's that soul thing again, huh?"

Castiel nodded, and started to open his mouth to explain, but Dean quickly pinned him to the bed.

Dean continued to kiss Castiel, but moved his hands flat to the mattress. "Gimme just a second, okay? I want to try something."

Castiel nodded, and Dean reclaimed his mouth.

Little by little, Castiel began to shiver, squirm, and buck. After a few minutes, Castiel pushed Dean away, gently. "How are you doing that?... That shouldn't be possible for you."

Dean grinned, "I've been working on it for a while, when you're not paying attention."

"Your soul... Dean, that's not... I don't understand." Castiel sputtered.

"Me either, but you sure seem to like it." Dean said. "Didn't take much at all last night."

Castiel looked bewildered for a few seconds, then grabbed Dean roughly, reversing their places by throwing him into the bed. He wasted no time pulling off Dean's boxers and taking him into his mouth.

Dean was gasping right away, "Oh, goddamn... that... hnm!"

Castiel put a heavy hand down on Dean's stomach, and ran the other along his thigh, feeling the strong muscles flexing below the skin. He released Dean, and moved to hold him down, still manipulating him with grace, as he dropped his mouth to the front of Dean's left hip, grazing just inside the bone protrusion with his teeth before he started to suckle the flesh as hard as he could.

Dean's voice lost all meaning, coming now in deep groans and squeaky gasps. Castiel added to the pleasure he was feeling by including stimulation to his testicles and prostate.

Dean arched off the bed despite Castiel's strength, his mind completely lost under Castiel's influence. "Cas!... I ... oh, holy shit... Ohhh, don't stop!"

Castiel dragged his hand hard along Dean's thigh, bringing his thumb to work the skin he'd lovingly bruised, taking Dean into his mouth once again.

Dean couldn't help crying out as Castiel's warm wet mouth closed around him. He was fighting, straining to hold back, Castiel could feel it. He took Dean in deeply and swallowed around him, tipping Dean over the edge, and keeping him pinned until he came down from his ecstasy.

Between broken moans and rough breathing, Dean made a weak attempt to lift his head. "Ohhh, god, Cas... mmmBaby, I love it when you do that..."

Castiel moved next to him, pulling him into his arms. "You've learned to manipulate your soul, Dean. That's not supposed to be possible... You are a truly extraordinary human."

"'S that why you love me?" Dean slurred.

"No. You have a purity to your heart you attempt to hide because you're too humble to accept it, which adds to your righteousness and valor in a way you can't begin to understand."

"Bullshit."

"Exactly."

Dean was quiet for a moment. "If I say I accept it, do I get another blow job?"

* * *

Dean wiped at his face. Eternity without his angel was an unimaginable horror. He wondered for a moment what it would take to stop existing entirely, gone, even from Heaven and Hell.

He sat up, shaking, trying to calm himself, but it was bad enough he was hyperventilating and feeling chills.

He was torn. What if praying would somehow put Castiel in danger? But what else would get through to him?

* * *

"I don't think I should call him, it's just a couple of werewolves. We got this." Dean said, putting his bag down and starting to ward the room.

"Just a couple? The last full moon they had six victims in one night." Sam replied, going about his own tasks. "I get he's trying to give this new garrison some guidance, but we could really use his help. And what if it's not werewolves at all?"

"Of course it's werewolves. And if we come up on anything that looks off, we call Garth, he'll tell us."

Sam shook his head. "Dean, how long has he been gone?"

Dean shrugged. "Why's it matter?"

Sam scoffed. "Like you're not counting the days?"

Dean shrugged again, shaking his head.

"Dean, did you do something to piss him off?"

"No." Dean finished drawing a symbol on the wall and put the cheap painting in the cheap frame back to cover it. "We're fine. He has his job, we have ours."

"You did, didn't you?"

"Sam," Dean warned, "Cas and I are fine. It's been a while, but he calls or texts every couple days. And it's still none of your goddamn business."

"You're acting guilty, you know that, right?" Sam said, sitting down and opening his laptop.

"How much info is too much, Sam? Because I could tell you plenty. Whips and chains, and lingerie-"

Sam put his hands up. "Okay! Got it! Not interfering."

Dean looked away, irritated. "Where should we get dinner?"

"I don't know. I could use a beer." Sam mumbled. "Kinda been heavy on the take-out lately... Let me check something first, maybe find us a bar and grill?"

"Yeah, okay." Dean pulled out his phone, but didn't immediately search for restaurants.

Castiel's last message had been nineteen days before. A simple request to check on the hives in the meadow, and water the flowers. Of course Dean had assured him he had already been there the day before, and would keep an eye on the whole set up.

Dean was absolutely certain they had parted on good terms, but there was another doubt in his mind.

"Man, the signal in here sucks... I'll be in the car, but no hurry." Dean said, headed for the door.

Once safely in the car, Dean dialed the number he'd been calling with increased frequency over the last several days any time he had a moment away from Sam.

It went straight to voice mail.

"Cas?... I, um... I'm out on a hunt with Sam, so we won't be back to the bunker for a few days, but your bees and your little garden are fine, I checked right before we left, and... Baby, please, if it's something I did... just let me know you're alive... if I don't hear back from you soon, I'm gonna pray, I'm just worried who else is going to hear it where you are..." Dean's voice broke. "I love you."

* * *

Dean stood, taking another desperate chug from the bottle, before abandoning it on the table to pace the floor, unable to keep still.

"Baby, please... I am so sorry, but I'm desperate." Dean fell to his knees.

At the last moment, Dean decided not to pray.

Seven weeks without practice left him weakened, but he did his best, stretching his soul, calling for Castiel, in broken, emotional searching.

* * *

Dean had gone to the bar, trying not to let Sam see how badly he was trying to drown his sorrows.

Some young blonde woman was trying to talk him into a dance, but settled for a game of pool. Of course Dean let her win, while her two friends seemed to be glomming onto Sam at the bar, but Dean only had one thing on his mind.

"So, I uh, I guess your friend over there is getting along okay... what about you? You seem kinda lonely." She said, trying not to smile.

"Yeah, well, my husband's been gone for a few weeks." Dean muttered, racking the table again.

"Your... husband?" she was a mixture of put-off and confused.

"Yeah," Dean said with a chuckle. "C'mon, think I didn't see you looking at my ring?"

"Yeah, well, plenty of guys come in here with rings on, doesn't seem to matter to them, and it sure doesn't matter to me."

Dean shook his head. "Yeah, well, matters to me."

She clearly caught a hint of sadness in his voice. "You sure he's not in some other bar living it up without you?"

"He could never do that. And I don't really know where he is right now, he's uh... he's deployed." Dean said quietly.

"Oh, god. So, if you don't know where he is... You haven't heard from him in a while, either, huh?"

Dean looked up as he went around the table for his next shot, and shook his head slightly.

"Gosh, I'm sorry. That's horrible."

Dean went to the narrow shelf that lined the wall for a hit of his drink, taking a glance at the bar to check on Sam. He was talking animatedly about something, and the girls were at least pretending to be amused. Dean couldn't tell from his vantage, but there appeared to be at least one hand on his brother's ass, so he started to consider his sleeping arrangements.

"So, how long is his deployment?"

Dean shook his head. "No idea. It's a really special unit, and it's kind of as-needed. He gets called up, and he's gone, just like that."

"Look, I can tell you're not interested, and I'm not gonna push, but can I at least give you a hug?... you look like you need it."

Dean allowed her to wrap her arms around his waist, as he leaned in a little above her head. The platonic human contact and honest sympathy felt great for a few seconds, but then the overly sweet scent of her perfume was overpowering, reminding him how much his Cas just didn't smell like a girl. He wasn't soft or smooth, and while those things had been something Dean would have looked for years ago, he was only a little surprised to find he had lost interest.

"Thanks, honey." Dean said, stepping back, as she turned back to the table.

He hadn't noticed the look Sam had given him on the way out the door with the two girls, but when he got Sam's text message, he was sure it must have been bitchy.

'Don't wait up. And don't do anything Cas wouldn't do.'

* * *

Dean felt something. Some small tug. He just wasn't sure if he was imagining it, or swaying from the alcohol.

All he could hope was that whatever he had done, it was both enough to reach Castiel, and silent.

Dean struggled to his feet and took another drink, setting it down and looking around the empty room. His eyes settled on the alarm clock.

It was well after midnight, marking the twentieth day since he had last heard anything.

He wondered briefly, if death were imminent, if perhaps Castiel asking him to care for the bees and flowers was meant to give him something to throw his energy into. Castiel certainly wouldn't want him looking for ways to end his existence.

He listened intently for anything. A rustle of wings, a knock at the door, his name being called from the parking lot, a cricket chirping, literally anything. But all he could hear was the sound of his own ragged breathing and his pulse pounding in his skull.

Dean shook his head against the maddening silence, still smelling the perfume, and headed for the bathroom.

It wasn't the cheapest of motels, and the bathroom was far more spacious than he was used to, but out of habit, he stumbled far enough into the walk-in shower to turn the water on before moving back out to work on his boots.

He stood up and started to unfasten his pants, but even over the sound of the shower running, he was sure he'd heard something in the room, and immediately went to check, cursing himself for even getting his hopes up.

He flung the bathroom door open to find himself face to face, and nearly nose to nose with the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen in his life.

Dean was speechless and didn't dare move, just in case he had gotten drunk enough to hallucinate.

"Dean..." Castiel said somewhat uncomfortably. "I'm sorry. I couldn't call. My phone was destr-"

Castiel found his mouth incredibly busy and rather full as Dean dragged him bodily into the bathroom, pressing him hard against the wall.

Dean kept him pinned there, as he hurriedly worked his watch off with his teeth, a rather feral display Castiel didn't mind seeing as he let it fall to the floor, before dragging the both of them straight into the shower.

Castiel did his best to cooperate with Dean's every movement. Dean ran his tongue up the side of Castiel's adam's apple, while tugging at his clothes. "Off!"

Castiel complied, suddenly bare from the waist up. "Dean... you smell like artificial female hormones."

Dean pulled back from the skin of Castiel's chest.

"If you like it, I will get some chick perfume and wear it every damn day." Dean paused, kissing him softly, before moving to his jaw. "Just for you."

"Dean... how drunk are you right now?"

Dean pulled back, bringing his hands up to that face he'd feared he'd never see again unless it was haunting him in his dreams.

"I'm sorry. I need you right now... And I swear, nothing happened. Some chick in a bar was hitting on me, I said I was happily married, but missing you, told her you were deployed, and she hugged me. That's it..." Dean's voice shattered and tears began to run again. "Where the hell have you been, sweetheart?... I was going to pray, but I was scared I was going put you in danger."

Castiel pulled him close, turning them both into the spray of the hot water. "You're right, Dean. Praying probably would have been a bad idea, I doubt I would have heard it. I was captured... The garrison Ramiel was building was slaughtered in front of me two weeks ago. But reaching out to me the way you did, your soul found me. It gave me just enough energy to free myself."

Castiel slipped his hands down Dean's body, feeling the soaked denim, and kissing him deeply.

"Did they hurt you?" Dean asked.

"Enough that I shouldn't be touching your ring for a while." Castiel admitted.

Dean used his teeth to pull it off, and put it in his sopping wet pocket. "You want to get the rest of this out of the way?"

Castiel smiled slightly and they were both completely bare.

"I know..." Dean choked out, still fighting his slowly dying fears, "I said I'd never come at you drunk again, I promised... baby, please.. I can't..."

Castiel kissed him, hard. "Extenuating circumstances."

Dean nodded.

"Let me read your mind?" Castiel asked, feeling fairly shaken up, himself.

"Anything you want, Cas." Dean said quietly. "Might need it a little rough, though."

"I can be rough." Castiel whispered against Dean's lips.

 _"Oh, hell yes, you can."_

Dean felt himself nod again before Castiel pushed him against the cold tile wall.

"Dean, I missed you... I was weakened enough to be rendered unconscious at one point... and I dreamt about you."

Dean squirmed as Castiel pressed their bare bodies together firmly. "You can dream when you aren't human?"

"Shhh... it's important." Castiel said, pinning Dean's arms just above his head, feeling him writhe, looking for friction. "I think we've crossed a line, and we need to discuss it."

" _Stop talking, I need your lips, daaamn good lips..._ Later?"

Castiel kissed him softly, still holding him firmly to the wall, taking Dean's lower lip into his mouth and running his tongue across it slowly before pulling back. He knew there would be no point in talking about it right now.

He twisted Dean's arm, spinning him carefully through the hot water before pushing the front of his body against the opposite wall. Between the heat from the water and the cold from the tile, Dean's nerves were on edge.

" _Ohhh, that's perfect..._ Dammit, Cas, give me some warning, okay?... _Don't do it, don't warn me. I can take it_."

Castiel pressed his lips close to Dean's ear, his words making him shiver. "Have you ever noticed a connection between your kinks and your deep seated craving for redemption?"

"Oh, god... _Actually that makes a lot of sense..._ Cas, please... _Grab me, spank me, just do something to me, I swear..._ I need you... _bite down, slap me, need just a little bit, please.._."

Castiel ran a hand up the front of Dean's body until he reached Dean's face, bending him backward slightly to kiss him over his shoulder. He nipped at Dean's lips before letting go entirely.

"I don't like the perfume." Castiel growled, "Get rid of it."

Dean shook slightly as he backed away from the wall, and moved into the water, taking the sample sized bar of soap from the nearby holder.

"So... did you want to talk about your dream?... _really demeaning watching me soap up like this..._ I mean, we don't have to, or maybe not right now... _I deserve it. Feels good, too. Cas, you gotta let me apologize. No, make me apologize, even though nothing happened.._."

Dean felt fairly sure he'd gotten the scent off of him.

"You've been wearing that ring for some time, Dean, but you never actually made any vows to me. Not as far as marriage goes."

" _Oh, shit..._ I guess I thought we both kind of had the idea on that?... _Don't leave me, I'll die without you..._ Baby, I swear to you, on my car, I've been faithful to you."

"You didn't sleep with her, I can tell. But what I don't know is whether you thought about it."

" _I could never. I'm your bitch..._ Cas, you know me, if I wanted to, I would have... _Oh, fuck, no. That came out wrong. So wrong.._. I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, I mean..." Dean shook his head.

Castiel stepped closer, taking the bar of soap from Dean's hands and putting it back in the holder. "I'll give you a chance to remind me of your devotion."

" _Punish me quick, before I ruin everything we've got by talking. Better yet, gag me, that could be good..._ Anything you want."

"I want vows."

" _Ohhhhh, crap. All the blood from my brain is down in my dick, and you're making me do words..._ Right now?... _This would work if you weren't standing right here, all, well, hot and wet and damn._ "

"Tomorrow. In a church."

" _That sounds really nice. And real..._ Yes. Absolutely. If you want me to show up in a dress, you got it."

Castiel pulled Dean close again to kiss him, water making their skin slippery. He wrapped his hand around Dean's hardness, feeling Dean shiver.

Dean's hand wandered to Castiel's ring, twisting slightly between his thumb and middle finger almost as if to say something he couldn't manage in words, before tangling in his hair as Castiel pressed him into the cold tile once again.

" _Rougher! I love you, but I need this..._ "

Castiel stepped back again and turned Dean around roughly, pulling him against his chest before slamming him into the wall. Dean moaned deeply enough for Castiel to feel it vibrate in his own ribs.

Castiel put one of Dean's hands on the wall, and twisted the other arm behind his back, guiding him back from the wall by his hip.

" _Get in me, oh, I can't do this, I can't wait..._ Cas, please!"

"Try to relax, Dean."

Dean nodded.

Castiel lined himself up, and pressed in gently, barely breaching Dean's tight ring of muscle.

"AHH! That's... Cas! Mmmn! That's good, really good... _tell me, I need to hear it..._ "

Castiel waited as Dean's body began to accept him before pressing in a little further, making Dean gasp and clench. He moved his hand from Dean's hip, taking hold of him again.

"Cas, please, I need you in deeper!... _still need you to say it!_ "

"I have to go slow, Dean. You're too tight."

" _Fuck yes, I'm tight! Somehow... even after all the dick I take from you..._ Please, sweetheart, I'm okay, I swear."

Castiel pressed in slowly, feeling Dean's moans and gasps shaking his body. He twisted Dean's arm a little harder before guiding it back in front of him to brace against the wall.

Dean's thoughts went blank, as both of Castiel's hands moved across his skin as he started to move.

"Dean..." Castiel said quietly, beginning to rock both of their bodies in one motion, not moving in and out, but causing the gentlest friction he could manage.

"Yeah?" Dean was losing himself in the motions and feelings.

"Do you realize you saved my life tonight?"

" _I'm not a hero, but I'll be your princess if you fuck me hard enough to make me scream..._ I wish I saved you sooner, but I didn't know."

Castiel pressed a kiss to the side of Dean's neck. "I'll be right back."

" _Nononono!..._ What?!"

Castiel disappeared, the oddest feeling Dean could imagine with his sudden absence, reappearing a moment later, and forcefully putting Dean on the floor, on his back, the water spray barely reaching his head.

Castiel poured a generous amount of lube over himself as he moved between Dean's open legs, lifting the lower half of his torso to slide into him, this time far more easily.

Dean threw his head back, mumbling a pleasured and very broken version of Castiel's whole name as he tried to wrap his legs around the angel's ribs.

Castiel curled around him and kissed him as he started to move. Dean's thoughts took a turn Castiel didn't expect, but took no issue with.

Dean's moans were growing in intensity and volume as Castiel increased his speed.

Castiel, following Dean's thoughts closely, waited until Dean had thrown his head back with a very encouraging groan that he didn't particularly want to miss hearing. He clamped his hand down over Dean's mouth, pulling his head back to where it had been, and made a demand. "Look me in the eye when I fuck you, bitch."

Dean shuddered hard, and Castiel could feel him tighten around him as he continued in what was nearly a brutal pace.

Castiel lowered his mouth to Dean's neck, rubbing the edge of his lip against the stubble before moving to bite gently at his collarbone.

Dean thrashed at the feeling of Castiel's teeth, his pleasured yell stifled by Castiel's hand.

Castiel pulled back slightly, taking in the helpless gaze from those green eyes. He thought he finally understood it now, and lifted his hand to give Dean a long, tender kiss before clamping his hand back over his mouth, and pounding into his body ever faster, holding him down to the floor. Dean was going to receive exactly what he wanted.

Dean shook hard as he came, their bodies pressed tightly together, looking up into Castiel's eyes as he'd been ordered to do, panting hard through his nose and moaning loudly into Castiel's hand.

" _Oh god, baby... Cas... hard... fuck me!... love me!..._ "

Castiel pulled out of him roughly as soon as he was done, shoving his legs off of his back, and getting up onto his knees.

Dean was speechless as Castiel's hands made short work of his own orgasm, spraying his seed onto Dean's already soiled genitals. He gasped at the heat it brought with it, realizing the shower had run cold.

Castiel reached over Dean's leg to slap the outside of his thigh fairly hard, certain to leave a large bruise, making the man jerk roughly.

"Clean it up." Castiel said sharply, getting up on shaky legs and walking out.

Without Castiel's body blocking the spray, Dean was freezing in moments. Dean sat up shaking, reaching for the knob only to find the hot water had been turned down, and adjusted the temperature.

Not wanting to be away any longer than necessary, he got to his feet and cleaned himself quickly before turning off the water, toweling off in a hurry and making his way to Castiel.

Dean found him in the closer of the two beds, far more dry, sitting up against the headboard. Dean was still shaking slightly as he moved over the bed, putting what effort he had left in him to getting closer to Castiel.

Castiel pulled the sheet over them both, settling his arms around Dean.

No words were needed, but as Dean began to dream, Castiel listened as Dean's subconscious mind played All My Love by Led Zeppelin from memory.

Comfortable for the first time in months, Castiel drifted off into a restful sleep.


	8. Part 8, Let Go

(A/N: Fic... Wut r u doin?... Fic... STAHP!

Seriously?

Yep. Still going... The plot monster has eaten my PWP, leaving me asking WTF.

Don't worry, I'll continue to share all the hot rompy goodness.

Love you all! FW )

* * *

"No, don't worry about it, I already ate... got my own room, too, at the hotel across the street, just getting my stuff." Sam said, grabbing his bag. "Yeah, Garth called again, small delay, but not by much. His group is all for it."

"Great," Dean said, on the other end of the line. "Let me know when he gets in."

Dean hung up and turned to Castiel. "Anything you want for dinner, darling?"

* * *

Dean was vaguely aware Castiel had kissed him before he left, but he didn't think the door was involved, so he wasn't expecting to hear it open.

Expecting Castiel back, however, he didn't bother reaching for his weapon.

"Oh my god..." Dean also wasn't expecting his brother's voice. That startled him.

"What the actual, -and literal!- fuck, Dean?!" Sam said angrily.

"What?" Dean said, groggy as hell, hungover, and sore, as he rolled over. "It wasn't on your bed."

Sam checked the still open bottle on the table. "Jaeger. Seriously?! That's like the only thing you shouldn't drink. What the hell were you thinking?"

Dean shook his head, not sure he understood what Sam was having such a very loud issue with. "I can drink whatever I want."

"Yeah, great. Drink whatever you want, but you're not the only one who's going to get hurt by your stupidity, you know. Unless he's gone for good and you just don't have the balls to admit it." Sam gestured to the pair of jeans in the sink, still soaked from the night before. "So, what happened there? Did you throw up, or go swimming?"

"What?" Dean said blankly, adjusting the sheet. His head was pounding.

"God, when I thought you had cheated on Cas before, and you said it was something worse- You said if you told me what it was you did, even I'd kill you for it, but he came back that time... If he's really coming back this time, why the hell would you do this?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked, rubbing his eyes.

"I can smell the perfume in here, Dean. And you sure as hell aren't wearing your ring. I know you, you never trash a bed like that by yourself, half the time you just sleep in your clothes." Sam said firmly. "Look, it's been two months. If he didn't leave on his own, you'd be tearing apart the world, heaven, hell, and purgatory looking for him. Instead you're hooking up with some blonde, and the only time you go for blondes seems to be when you're too desperate to give a damn about morals."

Ah. Got it. Sam was wrong, and therefore, this could wait until he could put two coherent words together, because being right wouldn't change between now and then.

"Shut the fuck up and get out." Dean said, resting his arm over his eyes, trying to get comfortable.

Sam was quiet for a moment, but Dean could guess. Weight shift, hands on hips, bitchface, the usual routine. "You can't treat Cas like this!"

"I _don't_ treat Cas like this, because _this_ isn't a thing. I didn't sleep with her, she was never here, I left her at the bar." Dean explained calmly.

Sam gestured to the messy bed. "Yeah, right... And what happens when Cas comes back? Or is he coming back at all? What the hell did you do?!"

Dean smirked immediately when he heard it. Sam was too busy yelling to notice, but Dean had been listening for it for weeks, and picked up the tiny flutter immediately, despite how easily it was drowned out by Sam's loud and irate voice.

"Hello, Sam."

Castiel set the bag and drink carrier down on the table, and took one of the cups of coffee to Dean.

"Cas!... when did you get back?" Sam asked.

"Mmn.. Thanks, baby." Dean said, taking the cup and rolling up onto one elbow to take a sip.

Castiel looked at Sam as he spoke, then to Dean, who was barely attempting to move more than the consumption of coffee required, before looking back to Sam to answer him. "Last night... I would have thought that would have been obvious, considering- ...um..."

Castiel fell silent, clearly uncomfortable, and held the other cup out to Sam, avoiding eye contact.

Dean shook with silent laughter, as Sam gratefully accepted the other coffee cup from Castiel and headed quickly for the door. He wondered exactly how Castiel would have finished that sentence, '...your brother, undressed, looking fucked from every angle?'

"Did I upset him?" Castiel asked cautiously, sitting down on the bed as Dean moved his legs out of the way to make room for him.

Dean shook his head, and stared at Castiel's face. Sometimes he forgot how much Castiel cared for his brother, and the friendship and camaraderie they had built over the years. But while he trusted Dean to forgive him for missteps, when it came to Sam, he wasn't as sure.

"No, sweetheart, you didn't. He was actually pissed off at me, because he thought I cheated on you, or worse... Don't worry, he got the message." Dean took a sip of his coffee as Castiel rested his hand on Dean's leg, close to the bruise on his thigh, his hand warm through the thin sheet. "So, you said something last night about us crossing a line?"

Castiel nodded. "There is a precedent for relationships between humans and angels, that's why Nephilim have existed."

Dean's eyes got big. "Yeah, but that's not a... we.. no? No!"

Castiel shook his head, "Obviously that's not an issue, calm down."

"Okay, so you're not- I mean, I can't, you can't... Can you?"

"Technically if I took a female vessel, I could, but no. I would never put some poor woman through that, and I've become rather attached to this body."

"Pretty attached to your body, too." Dean mumbled. "So... that's not a thing. What is it?"

"When a soul and grace interact, mix, if you will, for long enough, something new is created. If a fetus were involved, that is where the new power, or soul would attach, but for us, that isn't an option."

Dean nodded. "But it happened?... And it attached somewhere else?"

"Yes." Castiel took a deep breath. "The reason I was captured, the reason Ramiel's garrison was discovered... the rogue angels we were trying to make peace with discovered us because I now carry a soul. That's how they found me."

"You're... what?"

"I have a soul now, Dean. It started as part of you, but it's split off, like a cell separating into two new and distinctively different cells. The other side of this, the reason you've been able to manipulate your soul is that you're carrying some of my grace."

"Too damn early for this conversation..." Dean said, putting his cup on the nightstand and pulling Castiel into his lap as best he could, considering they were nearly the same size. Every muscle he had protested. He settled for pulling Castiel between his raised knees, still naked but for the sheet, and holding him tightly against his chest. "So, you have a soul now... Wait, that means if you die, like really die, stabbed with an angelic weapon, you...?"

"I would likely be without my grace, but I would continue to exist in heaven."

Dean buried his face into Castiel's shoulder, curling around him, and rocking gently, hoping to hide the tears he felt welling up. "Cas... that is the best thing I have ever heard."

* * *

"I'm not sure I'm healed enough to trade rings yet, so it would only be you." Castiel said quietly.

Dean nodded and thought for a moment. "Hang on, if I'm moving my soul around through grace... and you pulled a soul off of me, and it's not mine anymore, and I pulled grace off of you, is that grace still your grace, or how does this work?"

Castiel started to answer, then closed his mouth. "I have no idea."

"Okay... then, uh... how much grace do I have in me?"

"Less than I do. Beyond that, I can't be certain... Unless it's powered by your soul... I wish I could speak to my brothers, there are many questions concerning me."

"Okay, just one more tonight, okay?... Can I do that, um... that-" he tapped the wheel with two fingers, mimicking Castiel's oft-used gesture, "healing thing? Heal you up?... So I can grab us a burger, and share a meal with my husband?"

* * *

Sam was sitting on the trunk of the Impala, working on his laptop when Dean and Castiel emerged from the room.

"Go get your monkey suit on, we got work to do." Dean said loudly.

Sam shook his head, but complied, heading for the room.

"Hey, how'd it go, anyway?" Dean asked as Sam passed him.

"They were, uh.. both real friendly." Sam said quietly.

"Attaboy, Sammy, you slut." Dean chuckled, rounding the car.

Dean ducked low to adjust his tie in the side mirror before he got in, sitting down carefully, both to keep his suit from creasing, and because while Castiel had helped with his hangover, he purposefully left the bruise on Dean's leg.

He turned to look at C

Castiel in the passenger seat, adorable in his usual amount of disheveled. He resolved to sort him out later, when it might actually matter.

"So, about the church... did you have a special one in mind, or just any old church?"

"They are mostly the same, Dean. As long as we aren't disturbing anyone, I don't think it will matter. Any temple or synagogue would also do."

Dean nodded. "Um, Cas... were you wanting to do this private, like, just us two?"

Castiel looked slightly confused. "I had assumed you would want your brother to be there. But if that makes you uncomf-... _mmmf_."

Dean had cupped his cheek and claimed his mouth for a moment before backing up an inch or two to rest his thumb on Castiel's lips.

"I take it Sam will attend." Castiel said quietly, his sift lips moving against the pad of Dean's thumb.

"Hell with that, let's have him do the preacher's part." Dean replied. "Otherwise, y'know, how would that work, anyway?"

* * *

Castiel smiled softly. "I don't know. I could try to teach you, but it could take some time."

"How about steak, huh?... Beef was your go-to when you were... well..." Dean shook away the mental image of Castiel scarfing down a tray full of raw ground beef. That had been fairly disturbing to watch. "We give it a try, and get you a steak?"

Castiel nodded, "We can try."

* * *

After several interviews, and flashes of fake badges, they had narrowed down their case quite a bit.

Sam spoke up from the back seat as Dean pulled onto a county road. "I thought we were headed back to the hotel to change?"

Dean shook his head, "Nah, something we gotta handle first."

The Impala turned into the parking lot of a fairly small, and very deserted chapel.

Dean picked the lock quickly and Sam and Castiel followed him inside.

He had expected something darker, considering the building didn't look to be in use, but it was actually fairly modern, and even a bit cheerful. Or maybe it was him that was cheerful, he wasn't sure.

"Okay, let's make sure we have everything..." he checked his pocket quickly. "Sam is gonna need the 'incantation'..."

Castiel stepped onto the low dias and reached for a small book on a shelf in back of the pulpit. He withdrew it and tossed it to Dean, who then slapped Sam in the stomach with it, and turned him by the shoulders to stand with his back toward the pulpit.

"Vows. And make it snappy, before someone finds out we're in here." Dean said, turning to Castiel as he moved to join them. "You have to at least ditch the trench coat."

Castiel removed his coat and lay it over the back of the closest pew. Dean adjusted his collars, lapel, and tie for him. He was about to sort out his hair a bit, but changed his mind. After all, he found Castiel's messy hair incredibly hot, and fought the urge to mess it up further.

"Wait, I thought... Aren't you guys basically already...?" Sam asked, confused.

"Yeah, well, we kind of maybe left this part out, so let's do this." Dean said.

"Okay, hold on a second." Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Well... how do you figure... Cas, you got anything like a last name? And Dean, you realize you're standing on the bride's side, right?" Sam said, looking between the two of them.

"Works for me." Dean said. "Or did you want to walk me down the aisle to give me away properly? And you know there's no way I'm wearing white."

"Dude, you know I don't care,- I mean, I care, but... look, I'm just saying if you're about to turn yourself into Mrs. Angel-of-the-Lord, would you at least put some thought into it?"

Dean sobered immediately, and looked at Castiel. Sam was about to speak again, just to break the deafening silence when Dean smiled. "You know, you're right... just, um... just go ahead, Sam, we know what we're doing, we can prompt you if you get stuck."

Dean took Castiel's hands in his own, realizing this was something he did in fact want to slow down for.

Sam shook his head a bit and looked down at the page. "Uh... dearly beloved, we... There's um, there's no one here."

"You're fine, we got this."

Sam took a very deep, and nervous breath. "We are gathered here today in the sight of... Chuck?"

Castiel gave a small nod, and a quick, shy smile.

Sam continued, as Dean couldn't help smiling himself at Castiel's reaction.

"To join this... hunter and this angel..." Sam looked up nervously to check for any silent signs of objection, "in holy matrimony... Uh... into this holy agreement these... two persons come together to be joined. If any person- well, I'm the only one here, so no one's objecting, right?"

Dean and Castiel each gave a small shake of the head.

" 'k... uh... vows, right... Do you, Castiel...?"

Castiel tore his eyes away from Dean's for a moment and whispered "Angel of the Lord is fine."

"Do you, Castiel, Angel of the Lord, take Dean Winchester to be your... um, lawfully...?"

Dean whispered "You can skip that word. Even if it is legal now, not really binding for otherworldly beings."

"Uh... to be your, uh..spouse, and live together forever in the estate of holy matrimony? Do you promise to love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, for as long as you both... um..."

"Exist?" Dean offered.

"Shall exist?" Sam finished.

Castiel nodded, smiling as he answered, "I do."

Dean squeezed Castiel's hands.

"Okay. Um... Do you, Dean Winchester, take Castiel, Angel of the Lord, to be your... spouse, and live together forever in the estate of holy matrimony? Do you promise to love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, for as long as you both shall, um, exist?"

Dean couldn't help grinning, "I do."

Sam turned the page. "You guys have your rings, right?"

Dean pulled his out of his jacket pocket, and Castiel took his own from his hand. Dean gingerly passed his to Castiel, giving him the side furthest from the links to handle it by.

"Right..." Sam continued. "The wedding ring is an unbroken symbol between... uh... a married couple, of unbroken and everlasting love and commitment... I think I mixed the words up."

"It's fine. Sounds good." Dean said quietly.

Sam nodded. "Repeat after me, as you place the ring on your beloved's hand. 'With this ring, I thee wed.'"

Dean shrugged, and they both fumbled through it, simultaneously.

"I guess Cas was supposed to go first, sorry." Sam said.

"I don't think sequence is really that important to this ceremony." Castiel said quietly.

Sam nodded. "Uh... What.." Sam shrugged. "What Chuck has joined together, let no one put asunder. With the power vested... I, um... guys...?"

"It's cool, just skip to what's important." Dean said softly.

Sam shook his head and closed the book, tossing it haphazardly onto the podium. "I now pronounce you guys married. Kiss the... whatever. I need a drink."

Dean caught Sam's sleeve as he started to walk off, "Hold the phone, man."

"What?"

"Literally, hold. the. phone. Don't we deserve wedding pictures? Just one or two? C'mon."

"I'm starting to think you're only doing this to get back at me for what I said this morning." Sam said, irritated, but still taking Dean's proffered phone.

"This has nothing to do with that. I swear." Dean said, turning back to Castiel.

Sam raised the phone to take the picture, but wasn't sure he believed it until, as he saw it through the small screen, it dawned on him that Dean hadn't let go of Castiel's left hand through the entire ceremony, pulling out the ring and the phone with his left. He hadn't realized before that Dean had indeed made Castiel his priority.

Dean pulled Castiel close, joining him in a gentle kiss.

Castiel anticipated his movements, and dropped his hand to the bruise on Dean's thigh, out of Sam's sight and pressed on it, hard.

Dean jerked slightly at the sudden burst of mild pain.

Dean turned Castiel to face the camera lens as they broke away. "Make sure you get his good side, Sammy, at least one of us needs to look good."

Sam chuckled as Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's shoulders to get both their rings in the shot as if they hadn't already both been wearing them for nearly a year.

"Okay," Sam said, passing Dean his phone. "Can we go now?"

* * *

Dean set the take-out bag on the table as Castiel quickly stripped bare to the waist.

Dean turned to make himself available for his first attempt at a mojo lesson, but was quickly distracted by the sight of Castiel's body.

He didn't think he'd ever get tired of seeing it.

"Dean, please. Try to stay focused."

"I don't think I can." Dean said, slowly stepping closer and wrapping his arms around Castiel tenderly, "Might be able to tone it down a bit, if you had some bees on, that would help. Definitely slow me down."

"I won't be able to teach you anything if you're distracted." Castiel said, attempting a reasonable tone.

Dean shrugged, "Maybe it comes naturally." He raised two fingers and tapped repeatedly at Castiel's temple. "Anything?"

Castiel knocked his hand away in the most pathetic attempt to look annoyed that Dean had ever seen. Dean dodged his arm and tapped his cheek, chest, and the back of his head. "You sure this isn't working?"

"Dean, be serious..." Castiel said, catching Dean's wrist as his other hand dropped to tap his buttock, a much too amused smile on his face.

Castiel caught his other wrist as well, as it was headed to tap his navel.

Dean's arms went limp, and he leaned in just enough to brush Castiel's lips with his own.

* * *

"Can't believe you guys made me do that." Sam laughed, sitting down with another round of beers. "You know, they have some kind of champagne here, if you guys want to do this right?"

Dean didn't have far to turn in the booth, having barely looked away from Castiel to pick up a fresh beer. "What do you think? Do we need champagne?"

"I don't much care for it, but I don't mind if it's necessary." Castiel said quietly.

"Didn't know you'd ever had it." Dean said.

"Dude, he drank a liquor store. I'm sure he knows what he's talking about." Sam laughed. "So, last name... How's that going to work? And why hasn't it come up already?"

"Careful, he might not want to be associated with us." Dean said, chuckling. "Baby, you can do whatever you want, there."

Castiel considered it. "It would certainly be a far more socially acceptable title."

"Yeah, or, y'know, you can switch back and forth. Be all high and mighty Mr. Castiel Of-the-Lord when you need to, and just be Cas Winchester when you're hanging out with us humans." Sam suggested.

Castiel smiled slightly. "I must admit, I like the second one better."

* * *

Castiel's hands slid up Dean's arms, both of them wrapping around each other as the kiss deepened with a familiar comfort.

Each still deeply satisfied from earlier, there was no urgency, no longing, but a welcome contentment between them.

Dean pulled back, running his thumb over the corner of his mouth, speaking softly. "Okay, what do I do?"

"You're going to stay focused this time?"

Dean nodded.

"Close your eyes, before you get distracted again." Dean complied. "Reach out... No, that's your soul. Try... less emotion... search for damage..."

Dean jerked as a chill seemed to slap into his chest, as he heard Castiel groan slightly.

"No, that would be my soul... You're looking for physical damage, Dean."

"I'm sorry, I'm trying. Not like I've ever done this before."

"You have."

"What?"

Castiel lifted his hand to Dean's arm. "You have. But instead of using grace to heal a physical body, it was your soul healing grace."

Dean's eyes opened slowly. "Is it similar?"

"In theory, very similar, in practice, not at all."

Dean looked him over critically, almost making Castiel uncomfortable. "So the damage isn't corporeal, right?"

Castiel nodded. "Unless I'm forced to take entirely corporeal form."

"Where are you hurt? I mean, if you put my ring on, whe- wait..." Dean turned away abruptly. "I should have thought of it before. This thing keeps a lid on grace, right?"

Dean pulled his ring off, setting it on the table near the bag.

* * *

After a third round of beer, the Winchesters had resumed their hunt, and had gained a lead on the location of the wolf den.

It was clear the number of hearts being taken was consistent with a family feeding their young. Garth was on his way.

It became evident around 6pm, that they were done for the day.

"Okay," Sam said, "I'm going to plant myself and work on lore, see what we'll be able to do tomorrow once Garth gets to town, and since that's not really your thing anyway, maybe you guys should go out and celebrate. Doesn't get much quieter than this."

Dean had promptly dragged Castiel out to the Impala.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Where are we going?"

Dean looked up from the dash. "I guess I didn't think that far ahead... Where do you want to go?"

Castiel look out the windshield. "I don't have have anywhere in mind. But I would like to spend time with you."

Dean smiled and put the car into gear.

* * *

"Okay, let's try this again, if you had it on, where would I see..." Dean trailed off. Castiel's injuries were clear. "Sweetheart, you're a mess."

A large bruise showed darkly along Castiel's hairline, most of it hidden by his hair. A handprint on his neck looked a bit more faded, a shadow under one cheekbone, and a long, partially healed slash ran from one shoulder to the opposite hip. His ribs carried several bruises, and he had a cut on one arm.

"I'm alright, Dean."

"Bullshit." Dean said with a worried frown, pulling him close.

Castiel melted into Dean's arms, as Dean kissed him, stroking his hair delicately over the bruise, gently touching at the edge of it with his thumb.

* * *

Dean pulled Castiel close in the dark. The occasional passing car in the distance made him grateful he had turned off the headlights.

"I don't understand, this isn't your usual music."

"No, it's country. Which is good, and very rarely, really, really good, but we never admit it."

"Why?"

"Because Alan Jackson doesn't get you laid, trust me."

Dean did his best to get Castiel into the swing of a two-step, but he couldn't manage it. Thankfully the next song to play was Amarillo by Morning, so Dean pulled Castiel into a close embrace. "This one is easier."

"What are the steps for this dance?" Castiel asked, genuinely trying to learn in order to please Dean.

Dean dropped his forehead to Castiel's shoulder and shook it slightly, before raising it again. "You're overthinking it, sweetheart. You just hold on to me, I'll hold you, and we move back and forth at the same time."

"That sounds very similar to sex."

"That's why people do it."

About half way through the song, Dean felt Castiel relaxing in his arms. He slipped his hand into Castiel's jacket, and ran it up his back, feeling the curves of his muscles.

Castiel pressed his lips and nose against the side of Dean's neck as they continued to sway.

Dean pulled back and began to kiss him, gently guiding Castiel to drift with him in a small circle.

Castiel brought his hand to the side of Dean's neck, stroking his cheek with his thumb. "What do we do when the song ends?"

"We, um... well, we can keep dancing, or we can stop."

Castiel tightened his arms around Dean, and took over, playing at Dean's lips with delicate tenderness in a slow kiss.

Dean felt the edge of the Impala dig into the bruise. He didn't realize they were that close to the car. He was about to steer them further away, assuming Castiel wanted to keep dancing now that he was starting to understand it, but Castiel lifted him onto the hood.

Dean pulled his arm out of Castiel's clothes, bringing his hands to the angel's chest, trying mindlessly to pull him closer despite the fact the he was already standing between Dean's knees, and couldn't get much closer without losing several layers of clothing.

Castiel pulled back to look into Dean's eyes.

"How do you want this tonight?" Dean asked.

"Softly." Castiel said, leaning in for another kiss.

Dean pulled Castiel's hand from his hip, sliding it down his thigh to the bruise, still swollen and purple beneath his jeans. He curled his fingers, trying to get Castiel to press into it.

Castiel tried to pull his hand away, but Dean fought him, pressing harder. Castiel twisted his hand out of Dean's grasp, grabbing his wrist and slamming him down backward into the hood, pinning his hand above his head. Dean gasped as Castiel's chest came down upon his own, warm breath against his ear, in a growl. " _Stop it..._ "

Dean froze. He wasn't sure himself, if it was fear or submission, but he didn't even breathe.

"I will break your wrist, fuck up your car, and literally rip you a new one, tomorrow... but that's not what we're doing right now." Castiel whispered, far more calmly, with a frightening chill in his voice. He raised his head, finding Dean's green eyes wide. Lower, he could feel Dean's length harden almost instantly.

Dean slowly started to breathe again as Castiel held his full attention. It still took him several seconds to answer. It came in the form of a startled whisper. "You... you want to make love to me?"

"And you're not cooperating."

"I'm sorry."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "I don't want you to be sorry. Not tonight. I don't want you to submit to me, or humble yourself."

Dean broke eye contact. "So, when you say softly...?"

Castiel let go of his wrist, cupping his cheek gently, bringing his gaze back into line with his own. He spoke slowly, quietly filling his words with intent, "I want to bless your body with my own, out of love and affection for you."

He shifted his legs slightly, trying to relieve the stretch he found himself pressed into, while trying not to groan at the small bit of friction it brought him, giving Castiel a sincere nod. "I'll cooperate."

Castiel kissed him, warmly and gently. Dean consciously attempted to relax into it, and brought his arm down, wrapping it around Castiel's shoulders.

Castiel slipped his hands under the tshirt covering Dean's abs and stood up, slowly and delicately working his hands up Dean's torso, letting his fingers make tiny circles along Dean's flesh. He watched intently as Dean's breaths came shorter and more closely together, tilting his head back on the hood as Castiel's fingers reached his neck, stroking their way out the collar of his shirt.

Dean opened his eyes, not realizing he'd closed them as Castiel stilled his hands. He found two blue eyes staring down at him in passionate mixture of lust and wonder, below them, two lips resting parted.

"Cas... Kiss me..." Dean was barely aware he'd said it, and had no idea how his voice could manage to be that supplient.

Castiel brought his hands down Dean's chest, following the curve of his ribs, and slipped under his back, lifting him upright. Castiel kissed him... deeply, firmly, gently... his hands stripping the shirts from Dean's body with a mind of their own, his movements still slow and soft.

Dean brought his hands to clasp at the edges of Castiel's clothes as Castiel moved to his neck. "Let go, Dean."

Dean let his hands drop, as Castiel moved his lips against his neck, dragging over the curves, tonguing each dip, nipping each rise, and pressing his teeth against each side of his adam's apple in a gentle bite before pressing an extended kiss to the underside of Dean's chin.

Dean could barely tell Castiel was shaking out of his jacket, rather than slipping out of his clothes supernaturally. The cool evening air against his skin in contrast with the warmth of Castiel's touch intensified the feel of Castiel's hands moving across his skin.

Castiel pressed the bridge of his nose to Dean's chin, tilting Dean's head back, panting warm breaths against his neck as he stroked his hands along Dean's back and sides before returning to the front of Dean's waist, pulling at his belt, and slowly managing to unfasten his clothes.

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's shoulders, finding his skin bare, and tangled his hands in his hair. A moan rumbled deep in his chest, not completely coming out, restricted by the way his head was tipped back. Castiel gasped, mumbling something in Enochian against his throat.

"What's that mean, sweetheart?" Dean whispered.

Castiel pulled back and found his mouth with his own again, then pressed forward, gently lowering him back down over the hood. "Something well past 'treasured' and 'irreplaceable' about ten times over. No human language has an equivalent."

Dean continued to keep his hands in Castiel's hair as Castiel moved to Dean's chest, skimming lips and fingertips over Dean's tattoo, stroking at the shape of his muscles, and rasping a tongue across one of his nipples, making him shiver.

"Did you want to read my mind?" Dean asked. Everything felt hazy, but so good. No, good wasn't the word for it. Drunk maybe, or high on endorphins.

"No. I know you too well to risk it." Castiel mumbled against his stomach.

"I thought you got off on that?" Dean said. "Stuff gets good."

"You don't guard your thoughts. You never do, even when you give me permission..." Castiel said, pausing to nip at his navel. "When I want the unrestrained truth, that's the only way I get it, but some truths are too much."

Dean looked down, his voice a hurt whisper. "You didn't believe me?"

Castiel raised his head, simultaneously tilting it to the side. "Believe you?"

"About the girl at the bar. Last night in the shower." Dean's hands slipped from Castiel's hair, coming to rest on the hood as Castiel stood up further. His voice was marred with traces of emotional devastation.

"No... Dean, no. Of course I believed you." Castiel said gently, reaching for his face, stroking his cheek. "Your loyalty is beyond words. I don't believe you're capable of infidelity. You were drunk, and I needed to know I wasn't hurting you."

"You don't think I could cheat on you at all?" Dean asked, confused.

"You didn't open with an explanation of how the perfume came to be on your body, but with an offer to take up wearing it daily to please me. Consider that for a moment." Castiel said, waiting patiently.

Dean rested his head back on the hood. About fifteen seconds later, he breathed out a confirmation, while staring at the stars.

"Wow... You're right, baby. I'm gonna be your bitch forever..." Castiel smiled slightly and began to trace his fingers along Dean's abdominal muscles again. "I mean, if you'll have me."

"Dear one, I will always have you."

Dean's belt buckle jingled quietly as Castiel's warm hands settled gently on his waist, the open clothing leaving a gap where his boxers were easily visible.

Castiel leaned forward, pressing his lips to Dean's heart, one of his hands coming to rest on the side of Dean's neck, and making one painfully long, slow stroke down his body, dragging his searching fingers.

"What did you mean about truths being too much?" Dean breathed.

"Dean..."

"I don't get that part."

"I assure you, my mouth is about to be terribly busy, if you can-."

"It can wait."

Dean's abs jerked as Castiel nipped his skin just below his waist, his fingers tracing his hip bones, and slipping into the gap between the small of his back and the hood of the car.

Dean shivered as Castiel curled his fingers into his jeans and boxers, dragging them down to sit low on his narrow hips, before stroking his hands over Dean's stomach and slipping inside.

He pulled Dean free with one hand, and slowly closed his mouth over him.

Dean gasped and bucked, moaning. "AHH!... Cas! Oh, man... that's perfect..Mmn!..."

Castiel wrapped one of his arms under Dean's thigh, lifting him to push him further onto the hood, never stopping his motions with his mouth. Dean moaned unrestricted as he came to rest closer to the windshield.

Dean felt fingers tugging in the laces of his boots, but was too far gone to care. Castiel's warm, gentle movements had him completely preoccupied. He didn't care when his feet were suddenly colder, or his legs, and not at all when he realized he was completely bare.

There was certainly less chance of an odd bit of clothing scratching the paint.

Dean felt along Castiel's bare arms, taking what skin he could get, pulling them tight against his sides.

Castiel slowed and raised his head, running his bottom lip across the tip before pulling away.

"Dean..." he wrapped his hand around him tightly as he leaned forward.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Do you feel loved when I'm with you?" Castiel looked down, aligning the head of Dean's erection with one of his nipples, tight from the cool night air, and beginning to circle the two together.

"So loved..." Dean breathed, looking down, "Even when you're away."

Castiel's thumb spread him slightly, dipping his now wet nipple to rub into the slit as his other hand ghosted over the tender place on Dean's hip.

Dean shook, watching closely, tightening his legs around Castiel's ribs, hands grabbing the edge of the hood where it came close to the windshield above his head, the muscles in his strong arms clenching. "Hnng! Cas!... OH! Fuck, Castiel!... the shit you do to me... Better stop it, or this is gonna end real fast!"

Castiel gently moved his hands to Dean's sides, thumbs tracing the curve of his ribs, forearms firmly against him to the elbow, dropping his mouth to press a warm kiss to Dean's sternum, secretly enjoying feeling Dean's hard cock twitch from the pressure of the weight of his body, seeking more attention.

He slid one hand down Dean's side, hip, and thigh, until he was close to his own pocket, withdrawing the small tube, moving to kiss Dean's stomach as Dean continued to wind down slowly. Below Dean's legs, he managed to unfasten and shift his slacks down, and coat himself. Castiel stood straight up, pulling Dean's perfect ass off the hood, and pressing just inside of it. Dean moaned and rocked slightly, before Castiel slipped in the rest of the way, and stopped.

"Cas?... Did you just... mojo-dick me?"

"In essence, yes."

"That's not fair, babe."

"I can start over from the beginning."

Dean tightened his legs again, holding him inside, his voice a deep growl, "Don't you dare. You're taking your sweet time, and I am not complaining about it, but you slow down, I might just handle it myself."

Castiel smirked in the darkness, and began to move slowly, gliding in and out of Dean's body, slowly and gently, listening to the sounds of Dean's breathing, the nearly imperceptible squeak of the suspension, the tiny wet clicks each time his lips left Dean's skin.

Dean was still gripping the windshield-side edge of the hood, his arms tensing as he took each gentle thrust. He curled his body, raising his hips with the motion.

Castiel hooked his arms under Dean's knees, never stopping. "Dean... please... let go of the car..."

Dean's deep, impassioned breathing, occasionally colored with traces of moaning, broke up his answer. "Why... why you... why let go?... oh, this is good..."

"Please, Dean... show me you trust me... let go... hold onto me instead."

Dean slowly released one hand at a time, wrapping his arms firmly around Castiel's shoulders. "I trust you."

Castiel kissed him deeply, lifting him off the hood completely, and taking a step back as Dean clung tighter. "I won't let you fall, Dean... Breathe."

"I can't... I can't move like this, baby." Dean said, starting to get his breath back. "And I'm getting where I really want to move."

"How does it end when I don't let you?" Castiel whispered against Dean's ear.

Dean shivered. "Please, Cas... I won't be able to hold on."

Castiel stepped back to the hood. "You really do like it on the car."

"Yeah, I do." Dean breathed, air coming easier as his back gently came to rest over the sleek black metal once again.

"Why?" Castiel asked, picking up his rhythm again, thrusting firmer now.

"First time I saw you naked... on the hood of my car...laying back, oh god... so hot..." Dean said, panting slightly. "The bees freaked me out... but, ohhh, sweetheart... if you weren't messing around with bees.. mnnnI, I probably... oh hell... baby, I was hard... right then, would've fucked- AH! More!... More like that!"

Castiel kept his pace slow, paying close attention to how close Dean was getting, adjusting his angle, providing a slow, gentle whisper of a touch to Dean's prostate. "The first time I saw you naked, I had just regrown your skin over your body."

Dean looked him in the eye, horrified. "That's gross, Cas."

Castiel smirked, running a hand up his torso. "I prefer the term 'intimate.'"

Dean tipped his head back. "Do I wanna know... what else you... you think is intimate?"

"I know every part of you, Dean... inside and out... your whole body... I wanted you ri-" he felt a hard nudge from Dean's soul. "What...?"

"Kiss me, hard!"

Castiel invaded his mouth with his own tongue, more aware now, Dean was rocking against him harder. Castiel slowed the smallest increment before pulling back. "You're right there, Dean. Why are you holding back? ...I want to watch you, hear you, and know I caused it."

"...Cas!" Dean whimpered.

"Let go."

Dean squirmed against him with the next couple of thrusts, groaning and gasping, but still clinging to Castiel's shoulders with all his might. Dean threw his head back in what Castiel was certain was the quietest scream in all creation, his entire body shaking as Castiel watched his every movement. Wet heat, this time making it all the way to his chest.

Dean's cries of pleasure finally subsiding, strong arms unclenching from his shoulders, Castiel started to move out of him. "Wait."

Silently, he stilled. "What is it?"

"C'mon, Cas, I need this part." Dean found his eyes. "There's a lot I want that I can go without, but I need to feel it tonight."

Castiel was about to question him, when he felt a pulse of pleasure drag through his grace. He moaned, leaning down heavily on Dean's body.

"Cas... this is okay, right?" Dean asked, purposefully waiting a moment so Castiel would have a chance to answer coherently.

"Yes..." Castiel whispered hoarsely. He shook as he felt a wave of ecstasy sweep through his entire being, even bristling in his noncorporeal wings. He moaned, writhing against Dean, desperately pressing to stay deep inside of him. "Dean... ohh.. very pleasing..."

Dean unwrapped his arms just enough to tangle his fingers in Castiel's hair. "Good... just stay inside, I want to feel you."

Castiel felt a thick wave of heat, cold, and electric build something within him. Something that twisted and demanded release. He had to rest his head on Dean's shoulder to breathe between the waves, closer together now.

There weren't reliable words for the sensations Dean was causing, but close approximations might have been 'shocks,' 'pulling,' 'stroking,' and 'touch.' A cold fire was ignited in some part of him far more real than his bones, as his entire body succumbed to the pleasure Dean was bringing him. Shaking, moaning, and vaguely aware he was slipping off of the hood. Thinking of Dean, Castiel attempted to locate his feet and slow their decent, but failed. Dean's arm came down on his back kept him pinned where he was.

As Castiel regained his senses, he rolled his head to the side, just enough to find Dean's face. Dean was watching him, his expression somehow even more satisfied than before, one strong arm arched up to anchor them to the hood once again.

"How was it, sweetheart?" Dean purred.

Castiel, entirely spent, burrowed his head into Dean's shoulder, mumbling in Enochian, perfectly aware that if he hadn't just experienced complete ecstasy, he would have been instantly hard.

* * *

Dean opened his eyes, looking at Castiel's skin around his hand. The bruising was fading, the damage easing. "Holy shit."

Castiel tilted his head back as Dean's hands made their way to his neck, stroking gently at the mark, watching closely as it faded away.

Dean couldn't help poking and prodding at the now clear skin for a moment before his eyes found Castiel's gaze again. "You were this torn up the whole time?... Why the hell weren't you resting?"

"Being with you was much more important to me."

"I would have been with you the whole time, taking care of you." Dean said, slowly starting to stroke his fingers against the top of the long cut across Castiel's torso.

"That's not what I meant." Castiel breathed, clearly feeling a relief from pain he hadn't admitted to. "I needed you. Please don't be angry with me."

"Extenuating circumstances?" Dean asked, receiving a small nod in reply.

Dean grabbed Castiel's waist gently, and pressed him onto the bed, stretching out his lithe body, and beginning to address each wound in turn.

"So if I can heal you now, what else is going to happen with this grace thing?... do I get to grow wings and zap around all over the place?"

"You can't grow wings, Dean." Castiel said, closing his eyes at Dean's warm hands moving over a large spot on his ribs, no doubt covering cracked ribs. "You're more likely to grow an extra arm than an appendage you weren't created to have in the first place. And zapping won't happen... I think."

"Don't know what I'd do with an extra arm." Dean mumbled, moving closer to Castiel's waist.

"I'm sure you'd find a use for it." Castiel smirked.

"What about your back?" Dean asked, considering whether to roll Castiel over or sit him up.

Castiel stiffened. "I'm afraid it took the brunt of the damage."

"Let me see it."

Castiel rolled toward Dean, pulling a pillow under his chest as he moved.

Dean froze. "Cas... did you get stabbed?"

"It wasn't a fatal weapon."

"Cas!" Dean said, continuing to look over the damage. "What the hell did they do to you?"

Castiel was silent.

Dean looked over the flesh, one patch of it seemed charred, other places ripped, and some were a bit of both. After staring at Castiel's back for a short time, he noticed what looked like thin wisps of black smoke hovering close to the skin. It took some time for him to be certain what he was seeing. He decided to avoid them for now, and carefully reached to settle the palm of his hand on the small of Castiel's back.

"How come I couldn't see this last night? Or today, before I put my ring on?" Dean asked, stroking the edges of Castiel's wounds.

"First, you were drunk, then you were hungover, then you were very distracted. Also, you weren't looking for them, and I didn't particularly feel like letting you see them. They would have healed on their own in a few days." Castiel said quietly.

"You're hurt. Really hurt, and you were hiding it."

"It was selfish of me. I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't want to worry you, and... while I was being held, it didn't feel like only three weeks... I had nothing to keep my mind occupied but plan for when I returned."

Dean considered Castiel's actions. "I get it. I hate it, but I get it."

Dean leaned down as he reached further up Castiel's back, and stopped healing him for a few seconds, just long enough to give a breath of a touch from his soul - he was starting to feel the difference between it and the odd powerful feeling he was clumsily dabbing at Castiel's wounds - to one of the thin black wisps.

Castiel shivered and gasped, but said nothing.

Passing through the dark traces in the air physically, Dean had reached every bit of damage he could see. "How are we doing, sweetheart? Did I get them all?"

Castiel shifted onto an elbow. "There are a few more, but it will wait."

Dean stood and went to the table as Castiel began to follow. "So why is it I can heal you, but if it's just you, it takes days?"

"Angelic warfare. If injured by an angelic weapon, or holy fire, it's to be assumed we deserved it, or another angel will attend to the wound." Castiel said, carefully slipping Dean's ring onto his right hand. He groaned slightly, favoring one leg as he turned his chair back to the table, straddling it to leave his wings free.

Dean took a styrofoam box out of the bag and placed it in front of him before pulling his own chair closer.

Castiel opened the box. "How are steakfingers normally eaten?"

"Dip them in the gravy, like fries and ketchup." Dean answered. "They're good, but I'll make you a real steak when we get home. Potatoes, too."

Castiel smiled slightly and took a curious bite. "Are the flowers in the apiary still blooming?"

"Most of them. Once it starts to get colder, I think your hives are going to need some work to get ready for winter. I read up on it, doesn't look like anything too difficult." Dean said, digging into his own box of steakfingers and fries. "Any idea what you're going to do with all those jars you keep filling up? I mean, it's good on toast and everything, but there's a lot of it."

Castiel shrugged, and Dean couldn't help looking at the way his wings moved. "I did consider making some mead."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Mead?"

Castiel nodded, reaching for another piece. "It's a type of wine, but made with honey and water instead of grapes."

"Oh, so if we aren't using it up, you make booze out of it. Got it." Dean shook his head. "I'm starting to think I'm rubbing off on you."

"I have no objections to you rubbing off on me." Castiel answered, his voice so steady, Dean wasn't sure he'd heard him correctly, or if he had, if he understood the innuendo behind his words.

Castiel smirked slightly as Dean failed to answer, reaching for his last strip. Dean stared for a moment, taking in the sight of the creature before him, lean and toned, black, disheveled wings bearing a decent resemblance to his dark, messy hair. Cool blue eyes, stubble, shirtless, arms over the back of the chair happily munching on a steakfinger like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Are you... Are you hitting on me?" Dean asked. Clearly the smirk couldn't have been related to anything else.

"Why? Is it working?" Castiel asked, trying to hide a grin, but not quite managing it as he tried a few of his fries with the gravy.

"It must be, because for some reason I don't think I'm going to bed alone tonight." Dean replied, before taking a long hit from his soda.

A small movement caught Dean's eye, and made him look down.

"Take off your pants." Dean said, standing up quickly.

"Already?"

"Cas, your leg. That's a lot of blood." Dean said, pulling him from the chair. "Get my ring off before you lose any more."

Castiel finally caught sight of the crimson puddle by his foot, but Dean was already taking his ring from Castiel's finger. Dean dropped it on the table as Castiel's wings became far less visible.

He quickly stripped off, kicking his shoes away from the blood, and setting his slacks on the chair.

Dean grabbed a few napkins from the take-out bag, dropping to the floor quickly to wipe the blood from Castiel's thigh. The gash was deep.

"I'm sorry. I forgot how bad that one was." Castiel said, reaching to grip the edge of the table in response to a wave of lightheadedness.

"Don't do that. Don't apologize for being hurt after someone hurt you." Dean muttered, closing his whole hand over the wound. "We're taking these guys out, right?"

Dean spared a glance up to find Castiel looking horrified at the idea. "No. Heaven will handle it. You're not going anywhere near them."

"Heaven's not going to care what they did. Not enough to make them pay for it." Dean checked on the progress under his hand. It was slow going, but the healing had obviously begun.

Dean stood, keeping his hand over the injury, wrapping his free arm around Castiel, moving him to the side of the bed.

"If they can do this to me... Dean, swear to me you'll leave this alone."

Dean didn't answer as he continued to clean smears of blood from Castiel's leg with his free hand as he crouched beside the bed. Castiel stared at him, willing him to meet his gaze. Dean looked over his shoulder at the remnants of their meal, and considered it finished. He rocked the edge of his hand off the wound to check it quickly, before covering it again. Clutching tighter at Castiel's thigh, he got up just enough to put one knee on the bed near Castiel's hip, rolling them both onto the blanket, coming to rest on the other side of the bed, pulling Castiel's knee to rest on his hip.

"Dean-"

"Don't. I can't." Dean's voice broke for an almost unnoticeable second. "I made you some really big promises today, but don't ask me for one I can't keep. You asked me earlier, to trust you, to let go, now I'm asking the same thing."

Castiel searched Dean's face, his brow wrought with worry, as Dean checked the progress of healing on his thigh once more.

"Why is this one taking so long?" Castiel was about to answer him when he gave an exasperated sigh. "How much more damage are you carrying?"

"I have a small fracture in one of my metacarpals." Castiel admitted. "Otherwise, it's only mild bruising now."

"And your wings? Are they okay? They looked a little rough, but all the feathers, I couldn't see anything." Dean shifted his free hand to take hold of Castiel's as he obediently offered the one that was injured.

"They're fine."

Dean seemed to relax, letting his head sink further into the pillow, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, his voice was a deep, slow rumble Castiel swore he could feel throughout his entire body, causing his breath to catch in his throat. "When we get home... after that steak... I'm going to stretch every inch of you over the bed and preen your brains out."


	9. Part 9, Our Family

(A/N: This is a rather intense chunk. Not the worst, but plot sure ate my fun stuff!

Mild triggers. You're probably fine, if you got this far, but take care of yourself. Thanks for reading, and keep in mind, I also have Surprise in Room 223, and Answering Your Prayers if you just need a fun-stuff fix. ;) FW)

* * *

"Cas... Please... Just hear me out..." Dean said, his voice broken, and hushed. "This isn't you. I don't know what they did to you, but we can fix this."

Castiel's face still carried the diamond shaped burn as he stared Dean down, his voice harsh and sadistic. "You're going to die, Dean. You might as well enjoy the pain as it comes, because I'm going to make sure you feel every bit of it. But the real pain will be knowing your brother went first."

Castiel threw a hand up toward Sam, invisible force throwing him backward into the wall, and began an incantation.

Dean fought down his instinct to run to Sam, instead taking his only shot and bolting toward Castiel.

* * *

Castiel moaned deeply against Dean's hair as Dean's hands found him in his sleep.

Dean mumbled against Castiel's chest in the darkness. "I want to keep this one for later."

Castiel's breathing was deep but he whispered back. "Keep what?"

"Feather... you smell like warm cookies."

Castiel relaxed against Dean's warm hands, rocking slightly as he moved. "You want one of my feathers?... could be dangerous."

Dean brought one arm up Castiel's back, pulling him tighter against his own body. "Use it on you... that freckle..."

Castiel bucked with a gasp as Dean's soul suddenly flooded his invisible wings. "Too much! DEAN!"

Castiel grasped Dean's shoulder, his breath caught in his throat, his entire body shaking.

Dean's eyes popped open just as a wanton moan escaped Castiel's parted lips, head thrown back, and sticky warmth coated Dean's hand.

Coming down again, Castiel found Dean smirking sleepily. "Damn, you look good when you do that."

Castiel let go of Dean's shoulder, leaving a reddened handprint behind to fade as he rolled onto his back. Through a few mild gasps, his voice came out relaxed and mild. "I need you to start wearing your ring to bed again."

Dean glanced at his hand as Castiel slipped away from him. Giving a slight shrug, he wrapped it around his own erection, coating himself with Castiel's warm liquid and tugging gently. "Sorry, sweetheart... I'll go put it on in a minute."

Castiel stood up, moving through the room silently, knowing all the while, Dean's eyes were following his naked body. He picked up Dean's ring from the dresser top and came back to the bed, climbing onto the foot of it, making his way above Dean's body without touching him.

"You said you wanted one of my feathers to use on me. What were you planning?"

Dean's hand slowly came to a stop. "I have no idea. But I'm sure I could come up with some."

"Something about a freckle?"

The corner of Dean's mouth went up ever so slightly, and his hand started to move again. "Okay, I know what it is now. Bet you're curious, though."

"Dean, this is not something to joke about. Angel feathers are hard to obtain for very good reasons." Castiel continued.

Dean glanced downward. "Is this something we really need to talk about right this minute?"

Castiel gave in. "I suppose it can wait."

Dean opened his legs, prompting Castiel to settle between them, leaning down on him heavily as Dean gave a moan at the feeling of the soft flesh of Castiel's stomach coming down against him.

Castiel kissed him deeply, dragging his grace through Dean's, and causing a chemical reaction in his brain. He pulled back for a moment to make Dean take a few breaths. "I care for you dearly."

"Cas, please!..." Dean said in a high, choked voice.

Castiel pulled firmly at Dean's grace, wrapping it tightly around his soul, causing Dean to squirm and cry out. He dragged his nails down Dean's side leaving four stinging lines, just enough to tip Dean over the precipice.

Dean rocked his hips, grasping at Castiel as his orgasm took him, moaning into Castiel's mouth.

Castiel waited until Dean's breath had calmed before passing him the ring.

Dean took it carefully. "You know I kinda like getting to see you in the dark when it's off. This whole grace thing is kind of cool."

"Please put it on, Dean." Castiel said with a hint of weariness.

"You could just blindfold me, you know, that could be fun." Dean said, slipping it onto his finger.

* * *

Dean pulled the silver chain from seemingly nowhere, throwing it around Castiel's neck, the momentum from his run dropping them both to the floor.

"Sam! Now!" Dean yelled.

Sam moved quickly, taking a knife to the back of Castiel's clothes, allowing his wings to break free.

Struggling to get Castiel's hands bound in the chain, he heard it, barely a whisper, but Castiel was continuing the incantation.

Dean brought Castiel's hands to his chest and wound the rest of the chain up to Castiel's neck, gagging him with it.

* * *

"Okay, so you'll be back probably in the morning." Dean came down the stairs, a couple of grocery bags in one hand, his phone to his ear with the other. "Did you get a name?"

"Yeah," Sam's voice came from the other end of the line. "Azophael."

"Okay. Hold back, though, we can't just..." Dean spotted Castiel in the library, and completely lost his mind... er, train of thought. "Yeah, sounds good, I gotta go. Don't do anything stupid."

Dean hung up abruptly, shoving his phone into his pocket, making a beeline for Castiel.

"Where'd you get those jeans?" Dean asked, setting the bags down on an empty area of table.

Castiel looked up from the three books he had open on the table, along with Dean's laptop. "They were in the back of your closet. I noticed you don't wear them, and assumed you wouldn't mind."

Dean stood behind him for a moment, admiring his view before stepping closer, pressing a kiss to the back of Castiel's neck.

"And my old Zeppelin shirt from high school?" Dean asked, running his hands over Castiel's hips and thighs.

"What's making you act this way?" Castiel asked, leaning back against him.

Dean shook his head, slipping a hand up the shirt, running over Castiel's tattoo. "No idea what you're talking about."

Castiel leaned forward to pick up a closed book on the other side of the table, only to have Dean's hands find his hips again. He stopped.

"Why did you stop wearing these clothes?" Castiel asked.

"Oh... uh, the jeans got kinda tight on me..." Dean slipped his hand into the front of the waistband, palm against Castiel's abs, "...right here."

Castiel was glad Dean couldn't see his face, but did what he could to keep the amusement from his voice. "And the shirt?"

Dean's other hand came up to a small hole unnoticeable in the design, putting a couple of fingers into it, and without too much reach, finding Castiel's nipple.

"I suppose I could take them off." Castiel suggested.

Dean slowly pulled away. "Mm... no. Nuh-uh, that's gotta wait."

"Why?" Castiel asked, a look of genuine confusion on his features.

Dean continued to look him over. "I got some delicious choice meat to heat up later... And I picked up steaks, too."

* * *

Footsteps echoed loudly through the building, looking for them.

"We gotta move, c'mon." Sam said, moving closer, helping Dean get Castiel from the floor.

* * *

Castiel wandered to the kitchen as the scent of the steaks searing in the skillet reached the library.

Dean glanced at him, and still smiling, turned back to the steaks. "These are done. Sit down."

Castiel sat down as Dean took the pan off the heat, pulled a tray of pre-made mashed potatoes from the microwave, and set it down on the table. He came back a moment later, pushing a steak out of the pan onto Castiel's plate, and another onto his own before setting the empty pan in the sink.

Dean stood behind Castiel, sliding his hands down the angel's chest to his abs, giving him a quick peck on the side of his neck before peeling the the Led Zeppelin shirt from his body, and dropping his ring into Castiel's palm. He took a wing to the face, having not stepped back quickly enough.

"I'm sorry." Castiel said quickly.

Dean chuckled and shook it off, circling the table to his own seat, and adding a large spoonful of mashed potatoes to Castiel's plate. "My fault, I should know better... Dig in, tell me what you think."

Castiel prodded the steak slightly. "It's supposed to be bleeding?"

Dean nodded. "Absolutely. It's not a burger, if it cooks the whole way through, it's ruined."

* * *

Outside, Sam threw open the back driver's side door, and moving to the one in front of it as Dean got in as fast as he could, dragging Castiel's limp body in with him, holding his wings folded tight to his sides.

The engine roared as a bullet knicked the back window, the car jolting as it hit a bump on it's way out of the parking lot.

Catching his breath, clutching Castiel's paralyzed body to his chest, Dean turned his head to find his husband's bright blue gaze.

"Cas..." he whispered, barely audible over the road noise, "I know you're in there... and I am so sorry..."

* * *

Dean could barely breathe as Castiel tackled him to the floor of their room, pinning him, and kissing him passionately. He squirmed, but didn't attempt to resist.

Castiel sat up, straddling Dean's waist. "You were right, when you guessed I would like steak."

"Yeah, I know. You were moaning and purring. Never saw anyone eat like that. Not outside of porn, anyway." Dean said, looking up at Castiel. "Shit, I don't know what's hotter, the jeans or the wings... I said I was gonna help you with those, didn't I?"

Cas nodded. "You did say that, yes."

Dean breathed heavily as Castiel stretched his wings to their full length, grasping at his jeans on the angel's thighs.

He watched as Castiel looked down slowly. "I want..."

"Tell me." Dean answered his hesitation.

"I want to block your grace while you do. Don't finish me this time. I want to top you like this."

Dean's breath caught in his throat, choking a moan. "You, uh.. you want this softly?"

"No... For either of us."

Dean shuddered, then sat up as much as he could, as Castiel kissed him forcefully. "Mmn... like that idea... have to be careful."

"We will." Castiel said, quickly stripping Dean's shirt from his torso and shoving him back down to the floor.

Dean kicked at the back of one heel fruitlessly before dragging his knee up to reach for the laces, only to have his leg pinned as Castiel moved back, leaning down, keeping Dean's torso pinned with his hands while biting down hard on the denim below Dean's navel, unfastening the jeans with his teeth. Dean panted as Castiel quickly stripped him, dragging him to his feet.

Dean shoved Castiel toward the bed, tumbling him face first onto the mattress. "Damn, taking my pants off like that... You left yours on, though. Keep it that way."

Dean straddled the back of Castiel's thighs, running his hands up the sides of the angel's back firmly.

Castiel turned Dean's ring around on his right hand bringing the links palm-side and reached back, grasping his thigh, groaning roughly as Dean suddenly grabbed the top of one wing.

"Oh, shit... Baby, you okay?" Dean asked, freezing. Receiving a gasping nod, Dean continued, "You need a safe word, sweetheart, if we're gonna do this."

"What would be a good word to make you stop?" Castiel asked. He chuckled lightly, "I don't imagine you'd want to continue if I used your brother's name."

"Don't you fucking dare. That would make it permanent." Dean said, trying to sound serious.

Castiel moved his wing slightly to test Dean's grip. "Pull..."

Dean adjusted his hand, and began to apply traction, pulling the wing further from Castiel's back.

Castiel gasped, moaned, and brought himself up onto his elbows, his hips still flat against the bed. He dropped his head forward, relaxing into it, waiting until Dean started to wonder how much would dislocate the joint. Castiel's moaning soon turned into a higher whimper, his free wing trembling.

"Chain!" Castiel ground out.

Dean immediately let go of the wing and backed up.

Castiel breathed heavily, giving Dean's leg a squeeze.

"What the hell...?" Dean asked, almost afraid to move.

"You can't deny it's effective."

"Yeah, but..." Dean had a trace of worry in his voice, "Do we really have.. Cas... maybe we should talk about it..."

"I don't feel like talking."

"You just... you brought up the time I..."

"It reassures me you'll stop." Castiel said, "I need that."

Dean swallowed hard, dropping his head slightly. "Cas, I swear to you-"

"Dean, I love you... And I trust you to hear me."

Dean said nothing, leaning forward, coming up onto his knees and bringing his body between Castiel's wings, putting his hands on the bed in front of Castiel, dropping his mouth to the angel's neck. Slowly he sunk his teeth into the flesh as Castiel's grip on his thigh became harder and then started to shake.

Sitting up again, Dean began running his hands in and around the down at the base of Castiel's wings, feeling the snagging. "Dean... harder.."

Dean soon had a complete symphony of sounds coming from Castiel, but in his effort to be firm and quick, the actual grooming was soon done. He brought his hands down.

Castiel pulled one wing in, and grabbed Dean, dragging him down to the bed, devouring him in a violent kiss. Dean rearranged his legs until he could grind his hips up against the rough denim, grasping at Castiel's ass.

Castiel bit down on Dean's lower lip giving a sharp tug.

"Do you still want one of my feathers?" Castiel growled.

Dean wrapped his legs around Castiel's waist as hard as he could. "Not for this."

"Explain your reaction to the clothes today." Castiel demanded.

Dean displaced one of Castiel's arms, shoving upward, trying to get back on top. "It's like, me, all over you. Like you want me all over your naked body even when I'm not here. Unbelievable how hot..."

Castiel kept him pinned. "And my wings, humans don't have them. Why would you find them attractive?"

"Fuck, I don't know! Those things come out, I get hard. I don't care why. Why did you get turned on eating steak?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "You were turned on watching me eat the steak, weren't you?"

"... It was the sounds you were making."

"I can make you make those sounds."

Dean made a more determined attempt to reverse their positions, and resigned himself to shoving Castiel to the side, forcing a leg between the angel's before pulling him close again, giving them each a reason to moan.

"You can make me do whatever you want, you're stronger than I am." Dean said, grinding against him.

Castiel ran his tongue up Dean's throat, making him shiver, before claiming his mouth again, sweeping his tongue over the previous bite. "You need some vitamins. You're low on B6."

Dean's eyebrows nearly met in the middle. "What the fuck?"

"I can taste it in your blood."

"Okay, a little hotter, still weird. Try again."

"I want to hear you scream my name."

Dean nodded, "Much better."

Castiel rolled on top of Dean again, pinning his shoulders, grabbing his ass hard, and taking one of Dean's nipples into his mouth, pulling, sucking, biting and twisting, then running his tongue over it thickly, feeling Dean buck and writhe against him and moan with each development.

"Cas!.. hmmg! Ohhh, little more... that's... ahh... aaaAAHHH!.. don't... don't you... No, don't you make me..." Dean sunk his fingernails into Castiel's upper arms and shoulders grinding against him frantically as a sound like a cat in a meat grinder escaped his mouth. The reaction, and the actions that caused it were normally off limits.

Dean eventually got enough control of himself to break the suction by shoving his fingers into Castiel's mouth, grasping his jaw, and pushing him back. Dean managed to get upright onto his knees in the confusion, still holding Castiel's jaw, fingers inside his mouth. "Hope it was worth it."

Dean spotted a hint of an interrupted smirk, and pulled him closer by his jaw, leaning down, running his tongue over Castiel's lips anywhere his fingers weren't, before dipping inside to continue to trace them. "My fault, isn't it? I taught you to be a troublemaker... Got something else you can do that with."

Dean felt Castiel give a nodding motion, and brought Castiel's face lower, not letting go until he'd shoved his boxers down with his free hand and guided himself inside Castiel's mouth, moving his hand to the back of his head.

Once Castiel had taken him in deeply, Dean reached for his wings. He grasped firmly, feeling Castiel shake, rocking his hips in time with Castiel's mouth.

Castiel put all his weight on one hand, running the other up Dean's thigh, despite his body being shaken by what was becoming thrusting in earnest. He took hold of Dean's hip, viciously digging his thumbnail into the particularly sensitive and tender spot of flesh, making Dean whimper and crumple.

He grabbed the back of Dean's knees, dragging him off balance, dropping him onto his back, never stopping. Dean didn't let go of his wings, either, as Castiel stretched them forward.

Castiel released Dean from his mouth, dragging a wing across his bare skin, watching as he threw his head back. He pulled Dean's boxers from his legs, and leaned back down between them, eyeing Dean's tattoo.

In his mind he could picture the warding he carved into Dean's ribs.

"When I'm done with you... I want you to mark me as yours." Castiel said, planting a hand down firmly in the center of Dean's chest, reaching for the nightstand.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, grabbing Castiel's wrist, twisting it, and pulling it up above his head to make him land on top of him, chest to chest.

"I'll walk you through it." Castiel said, pulling his hand with the lube in it closer to his body.

Dean put his feet over the back of Castiel's calves, and back down on the bed, spreading them, dragging Castiel's thighs further apart. "Give me some of that."

"Why?" Castiel asked.

Dean didn't answer.

Castiel poured out a small amount in Dean's free hand, then tried to pull his extended wrist from Dean's raised arm. "No. You want your hand back, I want a kiss."

Castiel gave him a chaste peck on the lips, watching his eyes.

"Not enough, Cas... Kiss me like you mean it."

Castiel brought their lips together slowly, with every intention of love and care he could muster, working at Dean's mouth with slow, gentle movements, becoming incrementally firmer, insistent, and impassioned, until Dean was moaning and panting through his nose. He kept going, even as Dean released his hand.

"Don't make this easy for me." Castiel whispered against Dean's lips.

Dean dropped his thigh to the bed as he felt Castiel's hand brush past his hip. "I'm... not going to be your bitch tonight?"

Castiel stifled a smile. "That was almost convincing."

Dean shrugged. "Sorry, babe. I'm trying. Hard to fight something you want."

Castiel nodded, and attempted to get his hand between them, aiming to search Dean out and prepare him.

Dean shifted hard. "You better be reaching for a dick, or you're going to get that hand back in a box."

Castiel froze. "Dean, did you forget your safe word?"

Dean shook his head. "No. I'm good."

Castiel nodded. "You're going to enjoy this."

"You're a kinky bastard, you know that? Not as kinky as me, but you're getting there." Dean said, kicking Castiel's leg to off-balance him.

Castiel pinned one of Dean's thighs to the mattress with his knee, bracing the other out of the way with his hip, and forcing his hand through the gap with a grunt. "Say it."

"Hell no." Dean answered. "Not doing anything you want, princess."

Castiel ran his fingers across his target, making Dean lick his lips. "Say it."

"Fuck you."

Castiel pressed in as Dean trembled, trying not to moan.

"Stop it!... I don't... mmm... I don't swing that way... holy... MMmm... Cas, you're pissing me off."

Castiel slowly began to move his fingers, a trace of fear in his mind that he wouldn't be able to heal Dean immediately if he got too rough. "Then stop me."

Dean grabbed Castiel's hair, dragging him closer, giving him a frantic, greedy kiss. "Stop this or I will pluck you like a damn turkey."

"More?" Castiel asked.

"Uh... Don't?"

Dean groaned as Castiel curled his fingers, grabbing Castiel's wing and giving a hard tug.

Castiel growled into the feeling, and bit down on Dean's collarbone. Dean yelped and squirmed, shoving himself down harder on Castiel's fingers.

"Get the hell off me... Cas!..." Dean said.

Castiel kept his pace as he brought his other hand down to the jeans he was wearing. This got Dean's full attention.

"Ohhh, shit..." Dean muttered as Castiel popped open the button, whimpering, "Please tell me you... ohhhhh fuck..."

Dean shuddered, and took several deep breaths, laying his head back.

"Dean, explain. Now."

"Suck it. Literally or not, I don't care."

Castiel stilled his hand. "I'm uncertain you can continue."

Dean kept his eyes closed as he spoke, his voice a complete wreck. "I just... You... you have been going commando in my jeans this whole time? The library, the steak, taking mine off with your teeth, and the whole damn time..."

"Does it bother you?"

"Only in the best way."

"I don't know what that means."

Dean took a shaky breath. "It means... you're so fucking hot I almost came. Just... I needed a minute, okay? I got it, we ready?"

Castiel moved closer to Dean's face. "Touch me."

"Fuck off." Dean answered in his least convincing voice. "You think you can make me do stuff to you just because you've got me by the balls?"

Castiel grasped Dean with his other hand.

"Ohsonofabitch, now you do... Not... mmm!... not cooperating!"

Castiel studied Dean's features carefully. "Touch me, Dean, give me a reason to be gentle with you."

Dean shook his head.

"Dean... I know these jeans must be fairly old, you must have had them for some time, because denim isn't normally this soft... You must have worn them countless times, because there are traces of you between the fibers that can never be completely removed... All day, I've had them on, snug against my bare skin, rubbing at me from all angles, part of you, and I need more... so I'm going to push them down a bit further, I want your legs around my hips instead of the jeans, and I'm going to bury myself in-"

"Cas! Stop! I swear to god, you gotta shut up!"

"Force me to stop... I'll be deeper inside you shortly. But I must admit, the jeans are a close second, and I'm keeping the-"

Dean clamped his hand over Castiel's mouth, breathing hard. He ground out each word. "Shut... the fuck... up."

Dean reached between them, coating Castiel with the lubricant, his other hand removing Castiel's, despite some mild objection, doing everything he could to get Castiel inside of him.

Castiel waited until Dean was shaking with effort before allowing Dean to penetrate himself with Castiel's erection, moaning loudly. As requested, Dean wrapped his legs around Castiel, and rocked his hips against him.

Easing himself into Dean's rhythm, he found himself somewhat aware of Dean's hand starting to search him. "That's why you wanted it?"

Dean nodded. "I was trying. Figured if you managed to force yourself on me, I could at least get some payback."

"Force myself on you?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah... You're not doing a very good job of it, either."

"I'll try harder."

"I like harder."

Castiel adjusted his knees, and began to thrust at a brutal pace. He could feel Dean's fingers sliding against his skin, and became lost in the feelings his nerves were projecting to his brain. "Dean... mmmn... this is... ohhh..."

"I'm listening..." Dean said with a hint of a moan. "I'll hear you."

Dean pressed into of him, as something inside of him tugged sharply. Recognizing it, he quickly put his right hand against Dean's skin, ending it. "No... no grace, no souls... I want to be human with you..."

Dean nodded, "Keep it on me... ohhh, baby... don't alway know I'm doingAHHH!... Fucking hell, we gotta get you steak more often..."

"Tell me what you feel, Dean."

Dean shuddered and moaned before attempting to compose himself. "Feels like a huge dick in my ass, you big gay chicken!"

Castiel stopped immediately, with a startled look.

Dean took a shaking, gasping breath. "I don't even know what that was, baby, I can't keep doing the struggle fuck thing like this... Please just forget that?"

Castiel kissed him gently, starting to move again. Dean moaned again, continuing to work his fingers, just deep enough to make Castiel lose himself.

"Dean... are you close?"

"You can't tell?"

Castiel dropped his head to Dean's chest with a feral growl.

"Ring, right... uh... jeans, wings, steak... mmmm... getting there pretty fast..."

"Faster!" Castiel gasped.

Dean grabbed Castiel's hair with his free hand, turning his head roughly to the side, drawing his fingers down... lips, jaw, neck, chest, and back up. ".. close!... fuck me, Cas... "

Castiel lifted himself onto his elbows and shoved into Dean in a manner that bordered on violence, resulting in simultaneous incoherent screams.

As reality slowly began to exist again, Castiel raised his head. "Dean, be careful when you-ah!"

Dean slipped his hand away. "Sorry, I could have done that slower..."

Castiel put his head down again, bringing his hands to Dean's ribs, still breathing hard.

Dean stroked his hair and very carefully, his wings, his voice quiet and soft. "Cas... you remember when I didn't want to move... and you let me fall asleep like this?... we can do that if you want."

Castiel pressed a kiss to his chest. "Some other time, I would like that. I need something... Don't move."

Dean nodded as Castiel slipped out of him and got up from the bed. He was back a moment later with Dean's pocket knife, a slip of paper, and a determined look.

"What's that for?" Dean asked, not sitting up.

"I told you earlier, angel feathers are dangerous. They're very difficult to get, if they're ready to come out, they'll come apart, and in death, they disintegrate. If one were lost or stolen, it could be disastrous, so I can't give you one, but there is something I want to do instead." Castiel set the slip of paper and pocket knife down, and spread his wings wide, curling one around to where he could reach his flight feathers in front of him.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"I'm taking one of my feathers that isn't ready to come out yet. I've drawn your name in Enochian, I want you to copy it into my skin in the place of your choosing." Castiel said.

"Wait. Like a tattoo?" Dean adjusted himself slightly. "We could just get it done, you don't have to pull anything out."

"Dean, no. This is... much more than that. This is angelic ritual." Castiel explained.

"Okay, yeah, if that's what you want... does it hurt to pull it out?"

"It would be similar to removing a fingernail."

Dean shuddered. "What? Cas-"

"Please, Dean. I have wanted this for some time." Castiel said quietly.

Dean licked his lips. "Yeah, okay."

Castiel selected a single flight feather, and took hold of it with both hands, ripping his wing away quickly, gasping and shaking in pain.

"Cas? Hey..." Dean reached for him.

Castiel turned on the bed, moving to Dean's stomach, stripping the vane from the shaft, and dropping the pieces, quickly dissolving into powder into the mess on Dean's stomach, instantly tinting it a dark grey. He picked up the pocket knife and cut across the shaft, leaving an impossibly sharp point, stirring the sticky liquid, coating the sharp piece of what was left of the feather, before looking back to Dean, and passing it to him. "Claim me as your own."

"Where do you want it?"

Castiel shook his head. "You decide."

"Okay, where are you putting mine? We could match."

Castiel tilted his head. "You want me to-"

"Cas, c'mon. This is kind of thing you do together, right?" Dean asked.

Castiel nodded. "You're right... and I suppose I would choose by the place on your hip."

"Why there?" Dean asked.

"Because I'm the one who found it for you. It's our secret."

Dean nodded. "Okay, well, I can't do this on your wings, so, uh... how about between them? Will it work with the ring off? Down your spine?"

Castiel took Dean's ring off, setting it on the nightstand and turning to get his back as close to Dean as possible.

Dean looked down at the paper. "Do I.. do I draw it and then poke it in? How does this work?"

"Just keep the sharp end coated and make the design, it will attend to itself."

Dean raised the feather shaft to Castiel's back, putting the design he was to copy against Castiel's shoulder blade.

As the sharp point snagged along the skin, Castiel's breath deepened, until he began to moan.

"Please tell me this isn't hurting you."

"Dean..." Castiel's voice came out a delicate whisper, "Please keep going..."

Dean shrugged and continued, not telling Castiel he'd finished the design, adding a nearly microscopic heart next to it.

Dean pressed a kiss to Castiel's shoulder. "Okay... I've, uh... 'claimed you as my own.' Your turn."

Castiel turned around, and accepted what was left of the feather from Dean. "I'll mark you with my true name. This will effect your grace eternally."

Dean nodded. "Yeah... I mean, claim me."

"Lay back." Castiel said quietly, covering the tip in the grey fluid. "Normally this is done with a different substance, but for this plane of existence, this will suffice."

Dean didn't move as Castiel moved to his hip. He wondered at the implication, but as he couldn't achieve the same reaction himself, he considered that particular place to belong to Castiel.

Castiel stroked a flat, warm hand over Dean's tender flesh before he started, making Dean wish he had done the same.

As the sharp tip made contact, Dean could feel hot nails tearing into his grace, and Castiel's soul seemingly licking the wounds. A perfect burning, spreading through his entire body. He struggled to keep still.

When the burning began to subside, he slowly became aware of Castiel making his way back up his body, leaving a trail of soft kisses and warm touches as he moved.

"More." Dean moaned.

"I've marked my claim of you, dear one."

"Feels so good, though."

Castiel looked down at Dean's stomach. "I suppose it won't hurt you, and there's plenty left."

"Baby, you can give me a tramp stamp of a fucking care bear, I don't even care, but you keep going and I'll cook you steak every night for a month." Dean said.

Castiel raised his eyebrows and coated the sharp end once more.

* * *

Dean could barely feel anything, after several hours on the road, but he was determined not to let go.

A spot of blood had formed on his shirt where the diamond shaped burn had cracked, and seeped a drop or two at a time.

Dean had spent most of the ride slowly stroking Castiel's hair, and whispering his reassurances.

"I swear, Cas, I'm not gonna hurt you... We're gonna get you back... I love you... It's okay... You're safe, I promise..."

Castiel's eyes were open, and moved around, at one point fixing on Sam as he spoke. Dean knew it was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Dean, wake up."

Dean snorted, thrashing as he woke. "What? Where's my gun?"

Castiel grabbed his arm tightly as he reached for the nightstand. "There is no danger."

Dean relaxed visibly. "Was I, uh... doing something you didn't want?"

"No," Castiel said quietly, "You were beginning to have a flashback of your time in hell."

Dean took a few seconds to let his words sink in, and kissed him firmly. "Still my hero."

"You're still a mess from last night, and you would normally wake soon. I'd like to clean you up myself, if that's not objectionable to you."

Dean stretched slightly. "Bring it on, I can take it. Spa day, whatever you want."

Castiel pulled him from the bed, leading him sleepily through the corridors to the shower room. The water was already running when they arrived.

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's shoulders, dropping his head to the angel's bare shoulder as they came to a stop in the warm water.

Still muddled by sleep, Dean relaxed into Castiel's touch, cooperating with each gentle movement. He lost himself in the feeling of Castiel's hands in his hair, lips against his own, fingers tracing his stomach. He swayed as Castiel turned him in the jets of water, hands touching at his beard.

Dean started to come out of his haze as the water shut off, and suddenly a warm towel was wrapping around him. Dean took over, stealing another kiss as he turned to go to the sink, but stopped when he caught sight of himself in the full length mirror on one wall.

Castiel stepped close against his back. "You did ask me to continue."

Dean spread his leg to the side to find the tip of the shaft of the feather etched into the tender skin of his inner thigh, close to his groin. It wrapped around the outside of his hip, carefully avoiding the Enochian lettering of Castiel's true name, circling to rest the end of the impossibly detailed image on the side of his lower back. "We didn't have that much ink left... you didn't pull another one out, did you?"

Castiel shook his head, "No. There was more of it after you... diluted the batch."

"I got off?" Castiel nodded. "I must have been really out of it... Damn, that is... that's beautiful."

Dean touched Castiel's name with delicate fingers, and noticed his hair had gotten slightly shorter, and his beard was trimmed down to his usual amount of stubble.

"Shave and haircut, huh?" Dean muttered.

Castiel shrugged slightly. "Allopreening is supposed to be mutual. You'll forgive me for finding your lack of wings frustrating."

"And you gave me a feather I can keep, too." Dean said, pulling Castiel close, bare, wet skin sliding together, kissing him deeply as he guided his lover back to the wall. Dean pressed him firmly to the wall, moving to his neck, hands wandering, nipping at Castiel's ear before whispering into it, "You gotta let me show you what it means to me."

Dean could feel Castiel hardening already, and sank to his knees, taking him into his mouth. Castiel seemed usually quiet as he grasped the sink and tangled his other hand in Dean's hair, tipping his head back with a gasp.

Castiel hummed slightly in appreciation, letting go of the sink as one of Dean's hands rose to his stomach, lacing their fingers over his belly.

Dean felt Castiel give a sudden surprised jerk at the sound of the door creaking open. Dean stilled immediately, despite the abrupt slam, and distant yell of an apology. He looked up at Castiel, who was looking at the door.

"Hey..." Castiel looked down and felt an intense physical reaction to seeing Dean kneeling before him, hair still wet, green eyes seeking his own, lips wet, and swollen. "You want to stop or keep going?"

Castiel looked back at the door. "I don't believe he'll interrupt us again, so we may as well continue."

* * *

Finally in the garage of the bunker, Dean carefully popped open the car door behind him, pulling Castiel with him as he got out.

His ring had been in his pocket for the entire run, and he could feel the imprint Castiel's weight had caused, pressing it into his leg.

Sam came around the car to help, but Dean shook his head. "Go put down a blanket, so he doesn't get cold, we don't know how long this is gonna take."

Sam shot a regretful and caring look at Castiel as he nodded, leaving the the garage. Dean was careful not to touch the chain as he heaved Castiel over his shoulder, aware that his wings were dragging the floor.

* * *

"Sam, I think I should apologize. I neglected to lock the door." Castiel said, sitting down with his cup of coffee, causing Dean to nearly choke on a bite of his eggs.

Sam barely looked up from his computer, and when he did, it was toward Dean. "Oh, so now your gag reflex kicks in."

Dean started to turn red, but narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well I don't have a ton of practice deep-throating eggs. Not much reason to, either, seeing as they don't return the favor."

"Yep." Sam said loudly.

"Now, if eggs could throw me around a bit,"

"Uh-huh." Sam said, increasing his volume.

"Maybe slap my ass and choke me,"

"Okay!" Sam was ignoring Dean as hard as possible.

"Then Cas might have some competition."

"Yeah! Right, got it." Sam was talking over Dean now.

"Not to mention how good he looks in a thong and cuffs."

"Okay! Very informative! Thanks! Shut up!" Sam was at the loudest he could manage, bordering on yelling.

Dean went quiet, smirking as he continued to eat.

"And anyway, we don't usually leave doors shut on the rooms we actually use, so, I should have knocked. Sorry, Cas." Sam said, glancing up.

"I don't get an apology, too? I was there." Dean said.

"No. No, you get mocked for whatever that huge tattoo is on your ass." Sam answered.

"It's an image of a feather." Castiel added in an attempt to be helpful.

"It's not on my ass. Leg, hip, back, yes. Totally skips my ass." Dean said firmly.

"Why does that matter?" Sam asked.

Dean started to open his mouth with a far too amused look at his prepared response, but after a glance at Castiel, decided to shelve it. "Nevermind."

"I'm sorry, Dean, I couldn't figure out how to give you the tramp stamp of a care bear you asked for." Castiel said flatly.

Sam lost it, and burst out laughing. "Oh my god! Are you serious?"

Dean turned to Castiel, "Don't you worry about it, sweetheart, the feather is perfect."

Castiel finished his coffee, and left the kitchen.

"Anymore leads on those fucked up angels?" Dean asked quietly.

"Not much." Sam replied. "You really don't want to tell him we're doing this?"

"I will. But only after we're ready. He'd try to stop me otherwise." Dean answered.

Sam nodded. "You know I'm going with you, right?"

Dean glanced at the doorway. "Yeah. I know... And I know you're not doing this just for me, either."

"He's family. Part of our weird, broken little family, but still, our family." Sam replied.

Dean was quiet. "And if I was dead?"

"Jesus Christ, Dean. Don't start that."

"No, I wanna know... Sam?"

Sam looked up, meeting Dean's eyes. "He'd still be our family. And I would hope he'd be around, or wherever you were, but if you died... I don't know if I could lose him, too."

"You lost us both when we got dragged to purgatory." Dean muttered.

"Yeah." Sam answered, "And if Cas had been left behind, maybe I wouldn't have put a gun to my head eight times before I hit the dog."

Dean stared at him.

Sam shrugged, "Look, I know what you're getting at. You're not the only person who loves him."

"Great, now we have to figure who gets custody of you if we divorce." Dean said sarcastically.

Sam chuckled, "I figured Cas would have me on the weekends."

* * *

Dean walked into the circle, and very delicately put Castiel's limp form on the blanket, arranging his wings with tender hands, trying to make him comfortable.

"Dean...?" Sam said quietly from the corner of the room. "Do I, um... do I have to break a line to let you out? Since the whole grace-thing?"

Dean shook his head. "No... I'm still human, just got residual superpowers."

"Well, you did get hitched in a community property state." Sam said quietly.

"Get the damn curse off him." Dean said.

* * *

Castiel watched in horror as Maiel brought her hand to the back of Dean's head, exuding a flash of bright white light. Dean's body dropped to the floor, as Maiel jumped back. She shook her hand as though Dean's head had burned her.

"You!... Abominations!" she hissed in frustration.

Castiel, held tight by two of his brothers, began to chuckle. "You can't... you can't kill him. He's human, and yet more powerful than you."

Maiel stepped closer. She'd always been self conscious of being one of the weakest individuals in the least powerful class of the Host, but all she'd ever managed to compensate with were biting remarks. She slapped him across the face, nothing compared to what pain Dean could inflict purely on accident, causing Castiel to laugh harder.

"You will be the one to end his life, Castiel... Take him, Azophael's waiting."

* * *

Castiel's eyes were fixed on the ceiling, off to one side, straight ahead for the angle his head had rocked to. Dean took a deep breath, and looked him over again with a look of concern. "You know, I hate this. I don't even know if you're hurt."

Noticing something, Dean moved from the spot where he was sitting, his knees popping from being in the same place for so long.

Dean gently sorted out Castiel's tangled shoelaces and retied them. "Not much I can do right now."

Dean moved back to his previous spot, cross-legged on the floor at Castiel's side, absent mindedly rubbing his upper arm.

Sam came back into the room holding a large book and a bowl full of ingredients. "Sorry this is taking so long... It's been hours, Dean, you want to go get some air for a minute? I'll stay with him."

Dean shook his head. "No... I'm not leaving him till the chain comes off."

Castiel's eyes darted to Dean's, but Dean couldn't make out any expression in them. Very delicately, he reached for Castiel's face, moving his thumb over his brow, fingers trailing down the side, keeping eye contact until Castiel looked away again.

* * *

"Dean?... What does that mean? Dean? DEAN!?" Sam shook his brother violently. "Where's Cas? Hey? Where is he? Did he follow them? Did they take him? What happened?"

Dean fought hard trying to bring himself to fill consciousness. "Cas..."

"Holy crap... Dean... You have burn marks around your eyes."

Dean got to his feet by sheer force of will, and felt the flesh Sam had referred to. "Shit..."

"Dean, did you... survive an angel execution?" Sam asked breathlessly.

"Looks like it. Did you narrow it down?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded, "Yeah. They're running out of only one building, not a bright bunch."

"Okay. We go in there, we don't pull any punches. No mercy."

Sam swallowed hard. "And if they used that brand to curse Cas? We've been out of holy oil for weeks, no way to get it short notice. How do take him down without hurting him?"

Dean's face hardened, "I've got kryptonite for that."

"Your ring is strong enough to do that?"

Dean shook his head. "No."

* * *

Dean watched with a pained expression as Castiel thrashed helplessly in response to the spell. The glow of his grace showed in brief flashes as Sam continued.

When the last object dropped in the bowl with a small shower of sparks, and the last three words echoed in the room, Castiel went still.

Dean hurried back into the circle, kneeling at Castiel's side, taking his face into his hands.

"Dean, be careful."

"Shut up, Sammy."

"We gotta know it's him!" Sam protested gently.

Castiel's eyes opened slowly, and Dean searched them with worry. "Baby, I need some kind of sign that's you in there..."

Castiel blinked hard as tears began to run. Dean gingerly took the chain from Castiel's lips, careful of the corners of his mouth that were no doubt sore.

"Cas?" Dean asked in a hopeful whisper.

Castiel's voice, suppressed and shattered, was barely audible in the silent room. "Dean, I..."

Dean pulled him close, pressing their lips together.

"Dean?" Sam's voice came from further away.

"It's him. It's okay, Sam." Dean said, over his shoulder.

Sam gave a nod, heading for the door. "I'll leave you to it."

Dean hushed Castiel, working quickly at the chain before pulling him into his lap. The edges of the burn weren't as clear anymore, but Castiel's wings were still visible. "Hey, I got you."

"Dean, I'm so sorry." Castiel's tears continued.

"No. No, baby, that wasn't you." Dean said softly, kissing him.

Dean got to his feet, pulling Castiel with him, the angel's arms tight around his shoulders. "C'mon, you look tired. I'll get you to bed."

"Don't leave me." Castiel breathed against his ear.

"I could never do that," Dean answered him, "You're stuck with me, babe."


	10. Part 10, My Angel

A/N: Uh, blood, scary stuff, horrible, bad things... if you watch the show... C'mon, do I have to say it?

Trigger warnings... Okay, there's a hell scene in a nightmare, torture and knife... and the entire thing is in italics, easy to skip, and you won't lose anything if you do.

PLOT! Seriously, cut it out! This is supposed to be... Nevermind. At this point, pretty sure I could leave the sex out of a chapter and no one would care.

Thanks for the many lovely reviews, especially love the one saying the reader didn't read it, was just offended by the description. Lmao!

Please take care of your mental health, I love you all, thanks for reading.

More graphic smut with these dudes can be found in Answering Your Prayers, Forgiveness, and Secret in Room 223.

FythyrWisp)

* * *

Castiel grunted, heaving Sam's unconscious body from the floor, grateful no trail of blood followed his boots as he dragged him.

The spell seemed to be working, but he'd forgotten what it was like to be truly human. Weakened, panting, dripping with sweat, he could feel his heart pounding as he dragged his brother in law into a large, low metal cabinet, pulling the door shut after them.

Castiel sat uncomfortably with his back jammed into one corner, one leg under Sam's very heavy torso, the other between Sam and the door. He had to hold the door closed to keep it from swinging open.

Sam's head rolled against his shoulder for a brief second, coming back to rest slightly under his collarbone. Castiel pulled his arm out from under Sam's, as he'd needed to drag him, and dug down Sam's back for the pistol he always carried in the back of his waistband.

Dean had taught him to use a firearm safely, but as a human, his senses were dulled considerably.

* * *

Sam noticed the door was wide open as he moved through the hallway, or he would have avoided it. He looked in and noticed Castiel was awake, wings still visible, and a fearful agitation on his features. Dean was laying next to him, one very large, protective arm slung over the angel's chest and opposite shoulder, in a deep sleep, unaware Castiel was trying to shift free.

"Hey, Cas," Sam said quietly from the doorway, as not to disturb his brother, "You okay? You want something to eat or anything?"

Castiel struggled slightly and attempted to speak, but no sound came out. He gave Sam an irritated and helpless look.

"Dean!" Sam gave a booming voice from the door, a tone he rarely used, especially due to the fact Dean had often said it was indistinguishable from their father's variation. "Roll over, you're crushing your husband."

Dean shook awake, wiping at the corner of his mouth, pulling himself up to sit, trying to orient himself. "What?... You okay?"

"I just want to walk around." Castiel said in a quiet voice, "I need to move."

Dean rubbed at his face with one hand, reaching for Castiel out of habit with the other, catching only a quick squeeze of his hand. "You sure? I'll get up and come with you."

Castiel shook his head, "No, Dean, go back to sleep."

Dean turned slightly to glance at Sam, who gave Dean a reassuring nod, before dropping back into a pillow.

Castiel pressed a hand to the wall once he got to the hallway. Sam stayed right next to him.

"How long was I bound?" Castiel's was a rough whisper.

"Close to ten hours, I think... So, is that why you're still not at a hundred percent?" Sam asked, walking slowly.

Castiel nodded. "I've never been exposed to that much of the chain for that long before. I don't know how long until I'll be back to normal."

"That was pretty intense." Sam said, "I'm really sorry we had to do that... I'm not even sure how Dean had it, or exactly what was happening, he just said it would slow you down but your wings would need somewhere to go... Sorry about your coat, too."

Castiel stumbled slightly, but Sam caught him by the upper arm and let go again once he regained his balance.

"Don't worry about the coat, Sam. I'm just relieved you weren't hurt when I... threw you into the wall." Castiel looked ashamed, "I'm very glad I didn't succeed in killing you."

"Hey, don't... You were cursed. I've done plenty of horrible things without a curse or being soulless as an excuse. It's the life we live." Sam said, trying to be encouraging. "Your wings look pretty torn up, is that because of the chain? Or being stuck inside the clothes?"

Castiel froze, cringing slightly as Sam took hold of one gently, "Please let go."

"Sorry... uh, should I not do that?" Sam asked, quickly letting go.

Castiel shrugged, "It would be ...rather similar to taking hold of your nipple."

"Woah. Sorry." Sam backed a little further away. "Won't happen again."

It briefly crossed his mind that a few weeks prior he had walked in on Castiel and Dean in the kitchen, and Dean had had one hand in Castiel's hair, the other very full of feathers. It had seemed innocent enough, pants were on, hands were above waists, but now he wasn't as certain.

Castiel continued to walk slowly.

"You want to set up in the den? Watch some TV?" Sam asked.

Castiel shook his head, "I just need to move."

* * *

Castiel had given his angel blade to Sam, assuming he'd be of little use without his grace, and would stay behind him. He hadn't expected Sam to be struck in the back of the head by a human warlock affiliate of Azophael's, getting the blade knocked across the room, or that he would wind up knocking the man out with a nearby metal bar.

He shifted to get the gun out in front of Sam's chest, determined to shoot anything that might come close. His hands shook slightly, fear overwhelming him.

* * *

Dean lifted his head from the bed when he heard a shuffling in the closet, to see Castiel, his usual white dress shirt in one hand, the back destroyed, and pulling out one of Dean's t-shirts with the other. His wings were no longer visible.

"Hey, baby... you feeling better?" Dean asked, sitting up.

Castiel looked down at the ruined shirt for a moment before holding up Dean's. "I'm still recovering, so I hope you'll behave yourself."

"I'll behave. At least until you give me the go-ahead." Dean said with a smirk. "Wore off enough to put your wings away, huh?"

"Yes, well, after an awkward moment earlier, I'd much rather have them out of the way for now." Castiel said, carefully pulling it over his head.

"Awkward? What happened?" Dean asked, getting up from the bed.

Castiel shook his head slightly, "It was nothing. Sam didn't know, and... he touched one of my wings."

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, pulling him close. "I can kick his ass for you."

"I'd rather forget it happened." Castiel said quietly.

"You didn't make that sound you make when I... yeah?" Dean looked at his face quizzically.

Castiel shook his head, "No."

Dean nodded. "What did you tell him?"

"I said it would be like grabbing someone's nipple." Castiel answered.

Dean reached between Castiel's legs, brushing the tips of his fingers against him, leaning in for a kiss, "'Nipple,' huh?... That's not what you told me. Maybe it's just when you're turned on."

"You said you'd behave." Castiel said, shifting Dean's arm away, but accepting his kiss, "His reaction was sufficient, telling him everything would just make things worse."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, but maybe he deserves to be uncomfortable."

Castiel shook his head, "I don't. Please don't tell him."

Dean kissed him softly, "It's okay, sweetheart."

* * *

Sam shifted his arm against the back of the cabinet.

"Sam?" Castiel whispered, gripping the door tightly by a sharp metal inward edge, "If you're coming around, try to stay quiet... You have to stay quiet."

Vaguely, he could hear heavy footsteps echoing in the building. Words were being called, but he couldn't make out what they said, or the voice that formed them.

Rowena's plan had been sound, even if Sam had disagreed with it. The contract on her use of his grace was handled by Crowley himself, airtight, and he had leverage as he'd captured Crowley first, with the stipulation that he would be freed once the grace was returned.

With the help of his grace, the hex had been disabled, opening the room where Dean was being kept, and he'd nearly gotten inside before the warlocks had found them. He wasn't sure if, with Dean's minimal amount of grace, that he'd be able to get out through the warding.

The sound of gunfire and a struggle came through, muffled echoes in the halls.

Castiel shook slightly, chilled with fear he hadn't experienced in years.

* * *

"No, no, no, baby, it's okay, let me take care of you." Dean murmured against Castiel's neck as the angel reached to touch him, "Just relax."

Castiel let his head drop, holding onto Dean by the wrists, enjoying the feel of his hands moving across his skin, trailed by his heated mouth. "Dean... oh, your hands..."

"Shhh... I've got you, baby... I'm going make you feel fantastic." Dean whispered, making his way slowly down Castiel's body, bringing forth a moan. "You had a long week."

"Dean..."

"Hmm?" Dean kissed down his stomach, trying to get his pants open gently.

"Dean, I don't know if I really want to tonight." Castiel said quietly.

Dean raised his head, the two sides of Castiel's slacks in his hands. "Let me try?"

Castiel looked down, meeting Dean's eyes, and nodded.

Dean slipped his hand into Castiel's clothes, touching him softly, nipping the skin at his navel, inching closer. "Gonna get you nice and hard and suck you off... Just like the first time... You remember?... But I think I've gotten a lot better since then. "

Dean felt him twitch and gasp at the memory, and seemed encouraged, freeing him from his clothes, and beginning to stroke him.

Castiel closed his eyes, focused hard on the memory, but he could feel his body starting to fail him. "Dean, stop."

Castiel started to pull him upward, but Dean gently eased the waistband of his boxers over his quickly softening erection and removed his pants, pulling the blankets up around him.

Dean lay down next to him, close, but without contact, "Cas... if this is because of the chain, I know I deserve it, but I swear to you, I'm just trying to make you comfortable."

"It's not that, Dean. I know you didn't want that. Even biding my time and planning to kill you, I could see it hurt you to do it."

Dean rolled onto his side, scooting a little closer. "We've got one fucked up marriage for that to be reassuring, but it is."

"Our marriage isn't fucked up, Dean. Just our lives." Castiel answered, not turning to face him, but blindly offering his hand, feeling it clasped immediately, and squeezed in appreciation of the contact.

"Yeah, you're right. All things considered, the life we have, I guess we have it pretty good, huh?" Dean, now content Castiel wasn't upset with him, nudged his chin against Castiel's shoulder. "So, you just tired, then?"

"Dean, is this really something you want me to tell you?"

"Absolutely. I love knowing everything there is to know about your dick."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "I have a... lack of interest tonight, because I'm still uncomfortable from this morning."

"You mean, about Sam?" Dean asked, raising on his elbow slightly, his features grim, avoiding Castiel's eyes. "Well, you know, you can't help it, right? I mean, they're really sensitive, I mean, if some girl in a bar started handling my nuts, I know what would happen. Doesn't mean you have to feel ashamed of it, you know? It's not like you asked him to, he just did it, and he didn't know. And you told him to stop. And he did. Right?"

Castiel wasn't paying attention to Dean's fairly closed body language. "I keep wanting to get in the shower and scrub until the feathers come off. It would be painful, though, and take forever to dry... I suppose I could find some replacement powder."

Dean slowly turned to look at Castiel, a mixture of relief and guilt on his face, as Castiel met his eyes. "Well, shit. Here I was thinking you got excited and felt embarrassed, and you're feeling like you got molested, no wonder you can't... I'm sorry, baby. I'll help you wash your wings if you want. Anything you need."

"You're a comfort to me, Dean." Castiel said, putting his hand to the side of Dean's face, "Right now, though, I just want to sleep."

* * *

He heard the door of the room creak open as Sam gave a small moan.

"Shhhh... please... please pass by..." Castiel prayed.

The footsteps were quiet now, and continued inside the room as the door swung mostly shut. The person was inside the room with them.

Castiel considered putting a hand over Sam's mouth, but he couldn't afford to let go of the door or put down the gun.

He'd left no trail, not even disturbed dust, getting into the cabinet, but the quiet footsteps continued closer.

With his arm shaking, Castiel checked for a third time that the safety was off, and sitting basically on the ground, aimed for the top of the cabinet door, finger on the trigger and already tight.

Just as he thought the danger was about to pass, the person moving back away from the door, it suddenly pulled free from his grasp. His arm now free, he wrapped it protectively around the front of Sam's chest...

* * *

"Hey!" Sam called through the garage from the doorway.

"Yeah, what's up?" Dean replied, his arm buried to the elbow in the Impala.

Sam started through the room. "Woke up late, and I was going to see how much coffee I should make, but I couldn't find Cas anywhere."

"Yeah, he went to check on his bees." Dean said, loosening a rubber hose from the side of the engine. "We already ate, so it's just you."

Sam nodded, "Is he okay, going out there by himself?"

"He's fine. Trust me." Dean said, chuckling. "Threw me around pretty good this morning."

"T.M.I., dude. Don't need to know." Sam said.

"No, T.M.I. would be telling you that you fucked up what was going to be an epic blow job last night. You touch one of his wings again, he better be hurt, or I'm gonna break your hand."

Sam gave a horrified look. "Sorry, I really didn't know. I really thought it was just like an arm or something."

"That's why you're still standing."

Sam looked anxiously at the door. "Um, maybe I should apologize to him again?"

"Don't. As far as he's concerned, it's over, and not awkward. You're gonna keep it over and not awkward." Dean pulled the o-clamp from the hose, checking the post connection for debris.

"Right. And, definitely no touching anymore wings... and not just because I don't have time to deal with a broken hand."

"I'd heal it afterward. Just saying, it's the principle of the thing."

Sam nodded. "Okay, I need some coffee, then I might run into town and try to erase the idea that I ...messed things up. Sorry you didn't get your... ug."

"Oh, no, I wasn't the one getting it." Dean stated bluntly.

"Aaand we're back to the horrible memory with your ass-feather tattoo. Thanks." Sam said, heading for the door.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

* * *

"Dean!" Castiel said, pulling the gun off his target immediately. His breath was ragged and he was still shaking. His fear was joined with relief, and tears.

Dean looked over the two of them, his brother injured and unconscious in his husband's protective arms, Castiel clutching the gun, a nervous wreck. He checked Sam for a pulse right away, reaching for Cas with the other hand, trying to calm him. "What's happening? You're so... rattled."

"I don't have my grace, Dean. Sam's hurt, and I'm human."

"Human? What happened to your grace?"

"Rowena used it to bring down the hex. We have to get out of here, and you'll have to heal Sam." Castiel rambled, gasping for air.

"Okay," Dean said, pulling Sam off of Castiel, and over his shoulders into a fireman carry. "We're clear if we go out the west side of the building, they're going out the northeast door looking for me."

* * *

Dean watched Castiel come down the stairs from the door of the bunker with a sour look.

"Hey... Your bees okay?"

Castiel held up a jar of viscous murky amber. "They're quite happy."

"What's wrong?"

"I received a visitor on my walk back, Haziah. Azophael is still alive, and I've been asked to supply information."

"So Heaven is ready to take the guy down?" Dean asked, "That's good, right?"

The bunker door opened again as Castiel answered in a sorrowful voice, "I want this to be over, Dean. I don't think this is something either of us can win."

Dean hung his head at his husband's weariness as Castiel left the room, only looking up as the bunker door closed again, seeing Sam's overly concerned face.

Sam came down the stairs quickly and quietly. "Please tell me that wasn't what it sounded like."

"What?"

Sam opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again, shrugging and gesturing toward the direction Castiel had gone.

"The dude's tired of dealing with Azophael's bullshit. Gotta agree with him."

"Azophael?"

"Yeah. Why? What'd you think was going on?"

Sam shook his head and handed him a bag from an auto parts store. "It sounded like you guys having problems."

"You'd like that. A little Lifetime drama right in front of you."

"Don't joke about that, Dean. You guys are obviously happy together, and... that's what I want for you. Both of you."

Dean looked in the bag. "God, you are such a girl."

"You're gay-married to a literal angel, but I'm 'a girl?' There's no world that would make sense in."

Dean narrowed his eyes and headed back to the garage.

* * *

Hurrying outside, Dean looked around. "Where's the car?"

Castiel didn't slow down, going straight for a mid-90s Jeep. "About that..."

"No..." Dean said, heaving his brother into the back, and jumping into the driver's seat, reaching for the already loose wires, touching the bare ends together until it started, speeding away.

Castiel tightened his seat belt and turned to look over his shoulder at Sam. Dean reached across and took his hand. "He'll be okay... And Azophael's not going to be a problem anymore, one of the warlocks took him out."

* * *

Castiel felt Dean reaching below the blankets, but didn't stir, his mouth and nose pressed against the back of Dean's neck.

Dean slid his hand along Castiel's thigh, and pulled his knee over him as he adjusted roughly onto his back with a groan.

Castiel could easily feel Dean's hardness through his boxers, pressing against his inner knee. Dean's hand then stroked at his inner thigh until Castiel took it, laced their fingers and brought it to rest on Dean's chest.

Dean turned his head to Castiel sleepily. "You're thinking too loud. I can feel it."

"I'm sorry if I woke you." Castiel said quietly.

Dean hummed slightly, almost stretching. "You could help me get back to sleep."

Castiel straightened his knee, reaching under his leg, pulling the waistband of Dean's boxers down, allowing him to pop free, and closed the back of his knee around him. Dean stroked the outside of his thigh softly.

"What were you thinking about, anyway?" Dean asked, rolling his hips in a tiny motion.

Castiel licked the pad of his thumb and slid it back under the blankets, running it over Dean's tip, feeling him twitch. "My next 'deployment.'"

Dean swallowed hard and took hold of Castiel's arm, stopping him. "You don't have to. Tell Heaven to shove it, and say you're retired. Give them a damn good consult, but at the end of the day, come home."

Castiel brought his hand to rest on Dean's stomach, then a look of concern crossed his face. "I heard that. Don't even consider it."

"What?" Dean tried to look innocent.

"You are not going in my place."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't have me."

Castiel dipped his thumb into Dean's navel. "I'll have you. But not for this."

"You won't let me go with you?"

"After last time?"

"Yeah, I know. If you hadn't accidentally Nephilimed us both, I'd be dead. Sam, too, probably. And you'd be working for the dark side."

"I didn't... Okay, I guess technically I did..."

"Yeah, you did." Dean said, taking Castiel's ribs, rolling him onto his back, and moving between his legs.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, getting only a questioning tone from Dean as his lips were suddenly busy against Castiel's neck. "You left your ring on the dresser."

"mnYeah, but I'm a lot stronger than last time, and if you trash the room, I'll clean it up." Dean said before dropping his head to Castiel's chest.

"And if I break your bones again? Or the bed?... Or possibly bring the entire bunker down within itself?"

"Tell me right now that you don't want me to top you."

Castiel gave him a warning look.

"Right." Dean said, resignedly, running his thumb over Castiel's nipple, leaning in for a tender kiss, gently worshipping his lips with his tongue. "Tell you what..." Dean continued, trailing small kisses along Castiel's jaw, ending with a whisper to his ear. "I can think of something we haven't done yet."

Castiel was unable to hide his intrigue.

"I'm not usually into this, but with you, I'm pretty sure it's going to be different. It's worth a shot."

Dean stripped them both and got up onto his knees, dragging Castiel into a place on the bed he found more convenient. "If you're going to top me, I insist on having your ring."

"Nobody's topping." Dean said, dropping to the mattress on his side. "Not to say you can't this way, just this way, doesn't have to... Just do what I do, and you'll get the hang of it. After you get the idea, do whatever you want to do, okay?"

Dean took hold of Castiel's hard cock and waited, stroking gently until Castiel did the same. He grasped Castiel's hip with his free hand, rolling him onto his side, closer, and encouraging him to move his leg out of the way as he had his own. Castiel watched intently in the dark as Dean gripped his base and brought his mouth down around him.

With a stifled moan, Castiel did the same.

Dean fought to keep himself focused, and pulled Castiel's lower leg under his free arm, tonguing at his tip. With his free hand, he cupped one side of Castiel's ass and gave a hard squeeze.

Castiel took him in deeply, drawing back to wet his fingers in his mouth. Dean moaned around him, knowing well what he was up to.

As Castiel slowly began to penetrate him, Dean whimpered and did his best not to buck. He pulled off to catch his breath, clutching Castiel tight with his hand, gasping for air. "Ohhhh, Cas, that's-"

Dean threw his head back in an open mouthed whimper as Castiel dipped his tongue into his tip, sucking hard and curling his fingers to press inside him. Moaning roughly from Castiel's ministrations, Dean leaned in, dragging his thumb over Castiel's tip, angling him aside, and taking his testicles into his mouth.

Castiel froze for a moment as Dean worked him gently with his tongue, making tiny nasal noises, his thighs shaking with the effort of keeping his hips in place.

Dean felt a stir within his mind, a vague chant almost audible as Castiel grabbed his thigh tightly and tried to continue without shaking so much.

Castiel increased his attentions on Dean's prostate, and Dean pulled back, giving Castiel a long lick up the underside of his erection before taking him into his mouth again, working his soft, wet lips tightly around his head, squeezing his shaft hard in his hand, cupping him gently with his free hand, and thrumming his grace against Castiel's soul, making him lose himself.

Castiel took Dean in all the way, swallowing around him, wrapping his free arm around his lower torso, trying to thrust Dean into his mouth quickly, only ever pulling half way off of him, as he shook hard with his orgasm fast approaching.

Dean pressed in on Castiel's soul, flicking his tongue across his tip each time he came up, speeding up, feeling him on the edge, determined to send him over.

The chanting was louder now, echoing in Dean's mind, like a choir of delicate whispers.

Castiel pulled off of him entirely, with a noticeable glow in his eyes, "Dean! I can't-!"

Dean managed at the last moment to pull Castiel's grace into his own, pinning it tightly. Hearing Castiel's borderline scream of his name, he almost wished he was still inside Castiel's mouth, feeling him shatter from inside, but a half second later, the idea was banished to the realm of nope, as Castiel grasped Dean hard, biting into his thigh to muffle his scream.

Dean was more aware of Castiel's fingers inside of him, moving roughly with abandon, and his hand squeezing him like a vice grip than he was of the light bulb suddenly coming on and exploding inside of the glass globe, or the bed shaking hard enough to shift a foot away from the wall. But he could certainly feel it when Castiel's true wings gave a hard flap.

Castiel whimpered loudly against Dean's thigh as he spilled over, hot seed flooding Dean's mouth. Dean swallowed him down, trying not to make a mess as he kept moving, slowing down, waiting for Castiel to give him a cue to stop, but Castiel only fell into his back, rolling away from him, shaking hard.

Dean let go of him as gently as possible, including his grace.

Panting, Castiel turned his head to pull his fingers free, a small concerned sound in the back of his throat. "There's blood."

Still very wound up, Dean moved his hands along Castiel's body as he sat up. "It's okay, baby, I promise."

Castiel reached his other hand to Dean's face, healing him.

A loud knock rasped at the door. "Guys?... are you okay? Um... the lights just went berserk, and-"

"Go away, Sam!"

Sam gave some vague disgusted mutter as he quickly retreated back down the hall.

Dean looked down at Castiel's still spent body, touching him gently at his neck and ribs. "Cas..."

Castiel frowned. "I hurt you again."

"Was that your true voice? I heard something in my head, whispering-"

"I injured you, Dean. Intimately." Castiel's voice came harsher this time.

Dean shrugged, "Not the first time. Probably won't be the last."

"Dean..." Castiel's voice carried a deep sadness.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault, I wanted to let you lose control. But you didn't raze the bunker, break any bones, or try to rip my dick off. I should have stopped, got you the ring, or at least slowed down enough to let you stay in control." Dean spoke softly, reaching his cheek, "Cas, I love you."

Castiel pulled Dean down over his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around him. After a comfortable silence, Castiel whispered, "I want to try that again with your ring, at a later time."

"Yeah. Anything you want, baby. But that... it's never been that good for me, you were great."

"You didn't climax."

"That's okay. I was holding back. I was really wanting to watch you."

Castiel loosened his arms. "You forced my grace into submission with your own."

Dean raised his head. "Yeah... I wasn't trying to hurt you, just, you know, help you keep things controlled. I'm sorry-"

"I liked it."

Dean kissed him softly.

"I think I'd like for it to happen again."

"...Right now?"

"No."

Dean nodded again.

Castiel rolled them both over, coming to rest between Dean's thighs, pressing his soft stomach to the ache Dean still carried. Slowly, he dragged his body firmly upward, earning a shiver from Dean. He drew his hand below him, taking hold of Dean once again, fondling him gently, rocking against him as his hand started to glow.

Dean was instantly close, and felt as though his entire body was submerged in cold flames. "Cas! MMMN! OH, God, Cas, baby, please!"

Castiel slipped his other hand over Dean's mouth, intensifying his touch as Dean rocked against him, moaning deeply, and finally ending in a strained, muffled, quiet scream as his hands clenched at any part of Castiel they fell on.

* * *

Castiel tried to keep his emotions in check, but throughout his very long existence, he had rarely needed to, and found it difficult to cope. The entire run back to the vacant house, his thoughts were running rampant, leaving him alternating between a million points in the emotional spectrum.

He opened the back door quietly, hoping to avoid any unwanted questions from the people living nearby, and held the door as Dean carried Sam in.

Closing the door, he had the feeling the house was too quiet. Something was missing. He followed Dean into the living room, where he set Sam on an old sofa that had been abandoned by the previous tenants. "She's not here, Cas... Why the hell would you trust her?"

Dean put his hands on the sides of Sam's head, reducing the swelling where the butt of the rifle had struck him.

"We didn't have a lot of options, Dean."

"Great. So we've got Ms. Ethical running around with your grace, that was a dumb move, and... Why is Crowley here?" Dean asked, standing up and looking around. "Where are the stairs?"

"Dean, please," Castiel said quickly, in a tearful voice. "I'll explain everything, please just slow down for a moment."

"Cas, you gotta pull it together."

"Are you angry with me?" Castiel asked.

"No, I just have to get your grace back, before Rowena finds something crazy to do with it." Dean said, moving toward a door in the kitchen.

Castiel caught him by the sleeve. "Dean, I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"Going in there, without my grace, it could have gotten us all killed. I probably slowed Sam down, and..." Castiel wiped at his cheek.

Dean took a step closer, kissing him passionately, making him moan. "You saved him. We'll talk about it later. Right now, though, we get your grace back. You coming?"

"I, um..." Castiel glanced down, "Give me a minute, I'll be right there."

* * *

At first Sam was concerned he'd walked in on something private, but he noticed his brother's eyes were glued to the TV, and there was a distinct lack of movement for what he thought might be happening.

The sound was low, and Castiel was asleep. The angel had no shirt on, his wings relaxed, one draped over the back of the couch, the other had slipped to the floor below the coffee table, his head in Dean's lap, his back to the television.

Dean absent mindedly stroked Castiel's hair, watching his show.

"Hey, you want a beer?" Sam asked from the doorway.

"Nah. Can you hand me that blanket, though?"

Sam stepped into the room, picking up the blanket from the top of an old sidebar they'd found elsewhere in the bunker, and appropriated for the makeshift den. He passed it over the coffee table, handing Dean one end, and guessing his purpose, stretched the other end toward Castiel's feet.

"So, just curious," Sam whispered, "Say, hypothetically, wings are, I dunno, like boobs... and he's just walking around with them out, and that's not weird? I mean, am I supposed to look somewhere else?"

Dean shrugged, whispering back. "I have no clue, man. All I know is all angels see wings, but touching them is totally off limits. Except, you know, if they're... you know."

"So is that like, nudist colony, nobody cares if you look but don't stare, or like, strip club, it's rude not to?" Sam asked, puzzled.

"How many times have you gone to strip clubs where you're looking at other guys?" Dean hissed.

Sam shrugged, "I'm just trying to figure out the rules, here."

"Fuck it, ask him yourself, just do it when he has a shirt on... And don't make it awkward."

 _The heat was unbearable._

 _It was slow going, but he knew he would find him. He'd done it before. And he would have him back. He would always have him. His human. His charge, his friend, his lover, his other half, the one who had loved a soul into him. The one he shared with, thoughts, battles, triumphs, a bed, and a deep abiding love._

 _He was here somewhere. Somewhere in Hell. He had taken him out of here before, and he would do it again. A hundred times. A million. Anything for Dean. Anything._

 _He tortured souls. He enjoyed it. His conscious mind had even fought Castiel, wanting to stay at the rack, wanting to continue to tear, flay, and slice at the souls he had been allowed to tie down. Alistair had driven him to it._

 _Castiel found him where he had first seen the righteous man, broken beyond recognition. Shirtless, sweating, his skin marred with a thousand lines. Thirty years, Alistair had tortured him, and it showed._

 _"Dean Winchester! Don't be afraid. I've come to take you out of here." Castiel repeated the words he'd said as Dean turned around, his shoulders weary, but a look of sickening satisfaction in his face._

 _He could feel his grace beginning to falter. Much longer, and he would perish._

 _"I'm not going anywhere with you. Stick around, though. We can have some fun when I'm done with this one..." Dean said. Then, more clearly, "Hand me that blade..."_

 _Dean began to circle the victim on the rack, who seemed to be attempting to speak. "All I know is angels see things. But killing them is off limits... Except you." Dean looked up, pointing a knife at Castiel._

 _"What does that mean? Dean, I'm trying to save you!"_

 _The bloodied figure on the rack moaned, mumbled, and fought in instinct as Dean brought the blade closer._

 _"How many times," Dean hissed, leaning over him, "have you disappointed me?"_

 _There was something familiar, very familiar, about this victim, but Castiel couldn't place it._

 _"I'm just trying to figure out the rules, here." He gasped through the blood in his mouth._

 _It was Sam. Dean was refusing to leave Hell again, and this time he had Sam on the rack._

 _"Fuck it. Kill him yourself, just do it so it takes long..._ _And don't make it awkward." Dean said, picking up a knife, thrusting it handle-first toward Castiel._

 _Castiel was dying, he had to get Dean out of there, and he wouldn't be able to save Sam at all. "Dean, please. Come with me. Don't do this!"_

 _Dean shook hid head, planted his knife firmly into his brother, and dragged it sideways, listening to his gurgling scream as Castiel reached for him._

"Stop!" Castiel pressed up onto his knees, "Stop this! Dean!"

Dean caught Castiel as he nearly fell off the couch. Castiel didn't come out of his dream quickly enough, however, and tried to pin Dean's arms. "Let him off the rack! Don't hurt him!"

"Shhh! Cas! I'm not on the rack! We're home." Castiel began to calm as Dean touched his face. "We're home in the bunker. But if you don't quiet down, you're going to wake up Sam."

"Sam's not on the rack?"

"Sam was on the rack? I thought I was on the rack? I mean, nobody's on the rack ...you're having a nightmare." Dean watched for Castiel's eyes to clear before pulling him close. Dean shifted to lay down on the couch, under Castiel.

"Dean, I smell blood." the angel said against his chest.

Dean ran his thumb across a nostril. "Yeah, just a drop. Happens when you catch the back of someone's hand with your face."

Castiel felt Dean start stroking his hair again. "You want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Castiel asked quietly, shifting to adjust his weight, curling a wing around Dean.

"Your nightmare."

Castiel pressed his face against Dean's soft tshirt and took a shaky breath.

"Cas... you know me."

"You wouldn't."

"I would... You know because you've watched me do it. You've seen the worst parts of me, right from the start. I don't want to be like that, you got me out, and now I don't have to be." Dean pressed his lips to Castiel's hairline. "If you saw Sam on the rack, I know where I was, and what I was doing."

Castiel pushed his arms under Dean's back, holding him tightly, as if he might slip away.

* * *

Dean hurried down the stairs to the basement. The devil's trap on the floor was large, an old, comfortable looking armchair was at its center, and Crowley sat, playing a game on his phone.

"Dean... Good to see you. How are the wife and moose?" Crowley said, not looking up.

"One's hurt, and the other one needs his grace back. So how do we go about making that happen?"

"Don't get so surly, it's in my best interest to make it happen, but I can't discuss the details without your beloved bedfellow in the room. Part of the contract, you understand. The only part I can mention, really."

Dean nodded. "He'll be down in a minute... What could she use it for, anyway?"

"Who knows? Never had any use for grace, myself."

Dean turned to the stairs as the door opened again, and Castiel came down.

"Right. She can't keep it past midnight, or she'll be facing fairly horrific consequences. She can't make use of it to harm anyone, or do anything that could be harmful, and she can't give it to anyone but Castiel." Crowley looked between the two of them. " _I_ don't trust her, so believe me, I attempted to close every loophole."

"And what do you get out of this, exactly?" Dean asked, throwing a glance at Castiel.

"I can't do a favor for an old acquaintance?" Crowley acknowledged Dean's skeptical look with a nod. "I get to rest easy knowing that hideous beast isn't running amok with the power of a holy host of heaven. And I get let out, if I'm a good boy."

"Wow. That's almost charitable, Crowley."

"Remember it when my birthday rolls 'round."

Dean and Castiel both turned to the stairs hearing Sam get up from the couch.

* * *

Sam had tried to convince him not to go alone. Castiel wasn't there to stop him. Dean had split.

His ring in his pocket, Dean sped toward the location he'd gotten from Sachiel and Haziah.

The list of possible addresses were written down, and Dean had promised to call when he was sure which one was accurate. Sachiel had seemed certain it was going to be in Dodge City, Kansas, but the places in Sayre, Oklahoma, Lubbock, Texas, and Amarillo had been written down as well.

Castiel wanted it over. This time was going to be the last time Heaven called Castiel over Azophael, because this time, Azophael would die. Dean was determined to make sure it ended this time.

In his mind, images flashed, comforting Castiel, wrapped in the chain, tending to the burn on his face, kissing him gently and reassuring him he didn't blame him for what had happened.

Dean set his jaw, and pushed the Impala to go as fast as the engine would allow, knowing Castiel would likely be there ahead of him.

* * *

Dean came around the corner ahead of Castiel. "Sam? You okay?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam grimaced, holding his head.

The front door swung open, and in walked Rowena. Her long dress was a dark purple, and brought out her fair complexion. She held a to-go cup of something hot and a small bag.

Dean glared at her, murder in his eyes.

"There is the loveliest little bakery just up the road." Rowena prattled happily, "The espresso isn't bad, but proper scones? That's not to be missed."

"Hand it over." Dean growled.

"Not on yer life, my bonnie crabbit." Rowena answered, moving the bag behind her, pointing at him with the first finger of the hand that held the cup. "It's raspberry. Touch it, and I'll bake you into a tart."

"Not the pastry, Cas' grace. Give it back to him." Dean said.

"Och, fine." Rowena shoved her cup at Dean, making him hold it for her, and reached into the top of her dress, digging deeply into her bosom, "All right, I know it's in here."

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Can you think of a safer place than next to my heart, deary?" Rowena asked with a hint of sarcasm, withdrawing the glowing vial.

* * *

Desperate, repeating the address in his mind, over and over, focused on Castiel, Dean found the road noise hypnotic.

Dean was about to turn on the stereo as he usually did to snap himself out of it, but decided to check his phone first.

No calls, no messages since Sam had asked him to check in next time he stopped. He set it down on the seat next to his leg.

He spotted a sign for the turn off for Ransom, and repeated the address again, unaware his lips were moving.

Suddenly, he was falling, much like the physical sensation of falling as sleep overtakes the mind.

And then, there was a floor beneath him.

"What the fuck...?"

* * *

Dean took it from her before she had a chance to proffer it, shoving her cup back into her hand, turning to pass it delicately to Castiel. "Careful, Cas, might be cold."

"Very funny, lad, but with a lovely face like that, you'd be welcome to check for yourself." Rowena said, heading for the stairs.

Dean shook his head and let her pass.

"How do we know it's all there?" Sam asked quietly.

"It's all there." Dean answered. "Doesn't seem to be tampered with, either."

"Right... you're... yeah." Sam said, leaning on the wall. "So I guess right now, you're more angel than Cas is... huh."

"I have to be the one to release Crowley. Will you go with me?" Castiel asked Dean.

"Yeah, but you wanna grace up before we do this?" Dean asked.

"Not yet." Castiel said.

Dean shrugged, and motioned toward the kitchen, accepting whatever reasons Castiel might have. Castiel pressed the vial into Dean's palm, receiving a questioning look from Dean.

"For right now, you're stronger than I am, and I know I can trust you to guard it as you would me." Castiel hurried down the stairs before Dean could speak.

Castiel pulled a knife and scraped a break in the line on the floor before moving to the wall, stepping up onto a chair and then onto a dresser. Dean looked up to see an even larger, and more intricate trap on the ceiling. "How did I miss that?"

"It's surprisingly easy." Crowley commented, waiting patiently as Castiel scratched through the line on the ceiling. "And also quite thorough."

Rowena smiled from her chair nearby, chewing quietly, her conversation worth Crowley having come to a screeching half when Dean and Castiel came down the stairs. Dean had to admit the scone did look pretty good. "And what about you? What did you get out of this?"

Rowena held up a finger and swallowed. "That is a private matter."

"Private? Between you and my husband?" Dean scoffed.

"Between her and Sam." Castiel said, stepping down.

"Sam?... Shit. What did he give her?"

Castiel shrugged. "He didn't say."

"Okay, fine... Anything else we need to worry about?"

"No. That completes our deal... Nice doing business with you, Castiel. Come see me if you ever want to spend that superfluous soul." Crowley said, standing up before vanishing.

Dean took another suspicious look at Rowena and nearly asked for the name of the bakery, and followed Castiel upstairs.

"Okay. Where's my car?" Dean asked.

* * *

Dean rolled onto his back only to find three of the dickiest angels to ever be dicks, ever, staring down at him.

"Hey, I know you. You're the little weak ass bitch that couldn't get it up to kill me." Dean said to Maiel. "Mabel, right?"

The two in large male vessels dragged him to his feet. "You are a disgrace. A soul and grace in the same being. Heaven may have decided to allow it, after what you did for our father, but it is, nonetheless, disgusting."

"You know, after you fucked up your little execution move, I looked like I was wearing eyeliner for about three days." Dean shrugged, "Itched a little. Maybe next time you can give me the lipstick to go with."

Maiel punched him in the face, her diminutive stature lessening the blow even further.

"Ohhh, nice. My husband's gonna love this color on me. Thanks to my very own Avon lady." Dean chuckled, infuriating her further. "Ding-dong, oh look, somebody gets their wings, huh?"

"How did you get here?" Maiel asked sharply.

"Your mom dropped me off."

"Get him out of my sight."

* * *

"It's in a ditch just north of Ransom, on the way home." Sam answered. "Found it on my way to Dodge City. Not too bad, ran out of gas, but other than a couple scratches it's fine. Grabbed your keys and some supplies and locked it up. If we pick up a gas can it should get home okay."

"Thank goodness for small miracles, huh?" Dean muttered. "What did you give Rowena to get her help?"

Sam looked up. "Nothing, yet. Don't worry about it. I know what I'm doing."

"What does she want?" Dean asked, pointedly.

Sam refused to meet his eye. "You wouldn't believe me."

"Dude! Oh, that's gross, she's like, 500."

"No, god, no! Not sex. I was real clear on that." Sam said. "Look, I really don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"Fine, fine. But no whoring yourself out, got it? You've screwed enough inhuman stuff as it is." Dean said.

"Inhuman? You know Cas is in the room, right?" Sam said. "And you're not even really human anymore, either, are you?"

"Sam, I'm serious. There's a million ways-"

"Something like that could go sideways, I know. Been there, done that, remember? Just, look, head home, get your car, I'll be back in a couple of days, and I'll check in, okay?" Sam said. "I'll be fine. I promise."

* * *

After half an hour of frantic searching, calling other hunters, and a failed spell with a map, Sam dropped into a seat of the stolen Jeep with the list of addresses.

"Okay, so his keys were still in the car when we found it, phone too. He's not in the building. Maybe they zapped him someplace. Maybe we hit each address on the list?"

Castiel, standing by the open door, suddenly seemed far less agitated. "Are any of the addresses directly north of a place called San Antone?"

"What?" Sam looked confused.

"Up from San Antone... I can hear it." Castiel said dazedly.

"None of these places are directly north of San Antonio." Sam said, passing him the list.

"I understand, now. He's in Amarillo." Castiel said.

"You can hear him?... And he's quoting a George Strait song?" Sam asked, "I don't know which one is more surprising."

"I can't hear him, he's focused on a particularly strong memory. That song was playing."

"Do I want to know?" Sam asked.

"Dean taught me to slow dance. It was our wedding night." Castiel carefully left out what was happening on the hood of the car before the song had even ended.

* * *

Dean was quiet the entire way back to the Impala. Castiel had slept, mostly, except for a nearly panicked moment when he had to have Dean pull over.

After quick use of a couple of gas cans, Dean had Castiel follow him into town in the Jeep, ditching it behind an abandoned gas station.

Castiel got into the Impala, as Dean finished a quick text to Sam.

Dean looked up. Even in the darkness he could see the nearly silver line at the base of Castiel's throat.

He knew someone had to have held an angel blade to Castiel's throat and willfully pierced his skin with it to remove the grace. It would have taken only a moment to change course and murder him outright.

"Who cut you?" Dean asked, before bringing his eyes up to meet Castiel's.

"Sam. I didn't like the idea of anyone else bringing a blade that close to me."

Dean nodded. "You still haven't taken your grace back. You're starting to scare me."

"It's a painful process to remove it, and now that I have it out, I'm fully human."

"You're vulnerable."

"I know. But I can feel everything so intensely. Dean, I'll take my grace back, but I don't want to waste this."

Dean tilted his head slightly, before immediately correcting himself. "Holy crap, this is about as backwards as it gets... I'm zapping places, and you're... human. And confusing me."

Castiel looked down at his ring. "If you... if you put your ring on, we can both be human for a while."

"Is that what you want?" Dean asked.

"It's part of it." Castiel said quietly. "I know I can't stay like this. You, and Sam, you need me at my best. I understand that. And I believe I'm feeling guilt, just for leaving myself human this long, but Dean, everything I feel... I've loved you for a very long time, but somehow, this is different. It's... sharper, and heavier. I'm not ready to let go just yet."

"Okay. I'm not about to have us both graceless outside the bunker. We get back, I'll give you anything you want, and then..."

Castiel nodded.

"Okay... What was the other part?" Dean asked, not sure he understood.

"If you left your ring off... it's close enough that ... well, you could be my angel for a while."

Dean got the car on the road, waiting until Castiel had thought the subject was dropped, then began to touch him gently with his grace.

Castiel gave a confused look. "Are you doing that?"

Dean gave him a quick, flirtatious look, then got his eyes back on the road.

After a few more miles, he was causing slow, warm strokes through Castiel's whole body, making him moan and shiver. "Dean... if you're not going to pull over, you should stop. It's getting painful."

Dean smirked. "So take care of it."

"What?" Castiel asked, alarmed.

"Handle it. There's napkins in the glove box."

Castiel adjusted himself and pulled his left thigh up onto the seat. "I'd be fine, if you let it go awOHH DEAN! HMMN!... would you stop?"

"It's dark, there's no other cars on the road, nobody's gonna see... Except me, and that would be fun..." Dean said. "I know you're not a big fan of touching yourself, just watching when I do it, but, did you, when you were human before?"

"Only from necessity."

"Necessity? Oh, jeez, Cas... live a little." Dean looked quickly at Castiel's face. He wasn't as disturbed by the idea as Dean worried he would be. "I promise, this is absolutely a human thing. Unless I do it, then I guess it's a 'whatever' thing."

"Dean, I..."

"Don't be embarrassed, sweetheart." Dean said softly, "Tell you what, just get the napkins, and I'll help you out."

"You're driving."

Dean barely looked at him, but Castiel felt it. His whole body was on fire, his hardness throbbing, desperate for touch. "Yeah, I better keep my hands on the wheel."

Castiel rolled his eyes and unfastened his pants, taking the napkins from the glove box.

(A/N2: If you guys want to know what Rowena wanted from Sam, it'll be coming out soon.)


End file.
